

COPYRIGHT D^IPOSZT. 









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Al. 

S-oji) 


T. HAVILAND HICKS 
SOPHOMORE 




Just leave it to me, Butch,’ he chortled. 


T. HAVILAND HICKS 
SOPHOMORE 




BY 


J/RAYMOND ELDERDICE 

Authob of “T. HAViLiND HicKS, Feeshman” 



ILLUSTRATED BT 

FRANK J. RIGNEY 


NEW YORK AND LONDON 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1915 


COPTRIGHT, 1915, BY 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



Printed in the United States of America 



WQV 30 1915 


©CU414830 ;; 


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To MY Pal 

. ' CARL E. COOK 

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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — Hicks — A s of Old i 

II . — ‘ ‘ V OTES — FOR — F RESHMEN ” 12 

III. — Roddy Perkins — Master-Politician ... 24 

IV. — The Hicks’ Firing Squad 36 

V. — Theophilus is Shanghaied 50 

VI. — ''To THE Day!” 63 

VH. — ^The Tenth of October 79 

VIII. — Tom Sawyer Assists Hicks 94 

IX. — Hicks’ Counter Campaign no 

X. — Bannister’s Big Brotherhood . . . .127 

XI . — The Handwriting on the Wall .... 136 

XII. — Bannister Shows Prexy 149 

XIII. — Prexy is Persuaded 165 

XIV. — Napoleon at Waterloo 176 

XV.— Hicks — "Dressed in a Little Brief Au- 
thority” 193 

XVI. — Roddy Scores One .210 

XVII. — Hicks Plays Houdini 224 

XVIII. — ^Tom Sawyer Again Assists Hicks . . .237 

XIX. — Hicks Explains 249 

XX. — Hicks Reads an Old Letter 267 

XXI. — Hicks, Baseball Phenom 278 

XXII. — Hicks Makes a Hit . . . . . . . .294 

XXIII. — Hicks Cleans Up 313 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


‘^^Just leave it to me, Butch,’ he chortled” Frontispiece 
^ Hail, Hercules and Hector !’ greeted the bean-pole youth ” 6 

“ He proceeded with his lecture ” 15 

^ A nightshirt parade,’ stammered Ichabod” . . ' . . 27 

“Roddy suddenly imitated a small boy after a green-apple 

debauch” 42 

“‘Look at him, Jack!’ said Hicks, proudly. ‘Solomon 
the Second’” 53 

“‘Remember, fellow-Freshmenl’ he shouted. ‘The tenth 

of October’ ” 73 

“‘You are a back number, Hicks!’ stormed his behemoth 

companion” , 85 

“‘Oh^ joy, here comes T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., to see us, 
fellows!’” 102 

“They unquestioningly followed the sprinting Hicks across 

the Quadrangle” 113 

“Ichabod became for the time commander-in-chief” . .117 

“‘I will not fail now! I must gain Proxy’s sanction — for 
dear old Bannister’” 147 

“Bull Tucker picked up the struggling Hicks” . . .157 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

‘‘‘For some time ... I have felt that Bannister College 
faces a crisis’’’ i66 

Speech! Speech! Speech!^” 183 

“‘For old ’20’” 206 

“A few minutes of walking, done entirely by his captors” 220 
“‘I ivill escape,’ muttered Hicks” 233 

“‘Wait!’ shouted a familiar voice. ‘I will drink that 

toast. Sophomores!’” 261 

“Yet he had cleared six feet in the pole vault” . . . .272 

“The luckless Hicks sat down most fluently” .... 288 

“‘T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. — present!’ he chirped, blithely” 303 

“They punted and dropkicked the ball with marvelous 

ability” 316 

“‘Run, Hicks— run!”’ 331 


T. HAVILAND HICKS 
SOPHOMORE 


f 


T. H AVI LAND HICKS, 
SOPHOMORE 


CHAPTER I 


HICKS AS OF old! 


'AVhere, oh, where has my little dog gone — 
Where, oh, where is he? 

With his ears cut short, and his tail cut long — 
Oh, where — and oh, where can he be?’' 



APTAIN JACK MERRITT, of the Bannister 


College eleven, sat on the Quadrangle entrance 
steps of Nordyke Hall, the Junior dormitory, grin- 
ning up at big ‘‘Butch’’ Brewster, the behemoth 
Gold and Green fullback, and his Herculean team- 
mate, “Beef” McNaughton, who stood before him, 
enshrouded in deepest melancholy. 

“I tell you — it’s serious, Jack!” Butch had been 
protesting, when a foghorn voice roared out the 
heart-rending ballad that awoke the campus echoes, 
“Here 1919 is in honor bound not to haze — thanks 
to your old Anti-hazing Crusade of last year — the 
Freshmen are swaggering and truculent, more riot- 
ous every day, and — just listen to thatT 


I 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


The somber Beef, despite his gloom, smiled at the 
hilarious Jack Merritt, and the three collegians 
gazed across the brightly lighted Quadrangle at a 
window on the third floor of Smithson, the abode 
of the Sophomores. They beheld a slender, lath- 
like youth who carelessly strummed a banjo after 
the fashion of an ancient troubadour as he inquired 
plaintively in a raucous voice the probable route 
taken by his departed canine. 

Windows of the upper-class dormitories and of 
Smithson went up noisily, and heads were thrust 
out; there sounded vociferous howls, jeers, catcalls, 
and shouts — angry students offered humorous 
advice : 

‘'Go visit the dog-catcher — maybe he has the 
brute V' 

“Hire a hall, and hold your old saengerfest T’ 

“Hicks is off — we're in for another year of tor- 
ture." 

“If that pup left its muzzle, Hicks — use it on 
yourself!'' 

In response to the strenuous complaints registered 
by the wholly unappreciative audience, the embryo 
Caruso bowed gracefully several times, evidently 
accepting as well-deserved applause the storm of 
protest. 

“The One-and-only Thomas Haviland Hicks, 
Jr.!" muttered Butch Brewster, as the shadow-like 


2 


HICKS— AS OF OLD! 


Sophomore disappeared from the window. ‘^The 
blithesome, irrepressible, sunny — Hicks!’’ 

‘‘It’s Hicks — as of old !” smiled Jack Merritt, now 
a care-free Junior, recalling a night, just a year 
before, when he had sat on the sacred Senior fence 
— on the outer campus — and witnessed the operatic 
debut of the festive Hicks. “I’ll never forget, Butch, 
when I first heard him at the window of his room 
in Creighton! Heavy Hughes, Babe McCabe, and 
I rushed up to settle him — well, we tried all year 
and failed!” 

Bannister College had opened for what was to 
be Hicks’ first term as a lordly Sophomore, and the 
heedless collegian was back, as he characteristically 
described it, “in full force!” Returned likewise 
were all his old friends of the Freshman days — 
“Butch,” “Beef,” “Pudge” Langdon, the lengthy 
“Ichabod,” “Skeet” Wigglesworth, and others who 
had loyally folloAved his reckless leadership. 

“And the last thing Hicks vowed at Commence- 
ment,” commented Butch wrathfully, “was that 
he intended to be serious this year ! Listen to him 
now — just as rattle-brained and pester some as ever! 
You must confess. Jack, that something has got to 
be done to those Freshmen — just listen to that riot !’^ 

Bedlam seemed to have broken out over in 
Creighton Hall, the Freshman dormitory; an en- 
thusiastic number of first-year students made whole- 


3 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


hearted efforts to prevent any collegian from study- 
ing, and supreme success crowned their sincere 
endeavors. In one room a furious pugilistic contest 
was in progress, encouraged by a crowd of cheering 
spectators; in another, an augmented chorus of 
lusty-lunged youths chanted, ‘‘We are Freshmen, 
Foolish Freshmen r' to the tune of the famous Yale 
“Boola!"’ song. 

On every floor raged the' same disorder, in open 
defiance of all Bannister law and tradition. 

“Such a disgraceful condition has never before 
prevailed in Bannister history,’’ declared Beef bit- 
terly. “We are helpless — literally tied by our word 
of honor not to haze ! And what does Hicks, our 
brilliant class president, care how the Freshmen act? 
He ” 

As if in answer to the wrathful Beef’s question, 
the same slender, debonair youth who had made the 
unharmonious inquiries about the tragic loss of his 
dog reappeared at the window ; he plunked the banjo 
with a fiendish disregard of time, and in a sepul- 
chral voice bellowed : 

^'Oh, the bulldog on the bank, and the bullfrog in — the — 
poo-oo-ool ! 

The bulldog on the bank, and the ’’ 

This time, however, something happened that 
no upper-classman at old Bannister would have 


4 


HICKS— AS OF OLD! 


dreamed was possible. Several audacious Freshmen 
who had been leaning from a window on the third 
floor of Creighton, directly across from Hicks’ 
room, produced monster megaphones, and boomed : 

“Oool Listen to the mocking-bird I” 

“Give that calf more rope !” 

“Kill it quick — don’t let the poor thing suffer!’’ 

Then they imitated — with great effect — the 
mournful howling of a lonesome hound at mid- 
night, to express their opinion of Hicks’ vocal efforts. 
The meek and lowly Freshmen, popularly supposed 
to maintain at all times a most respectful attitude 
toward upper-classmen, and also a decorous si- 
lence in their dormitory, had actually derided the 
president of the Sophomore Class ! 

“This is too much. Beef !’’ roared the enraged and 
tortured Butch Brewster, propelling his bulk furi- 
ously toward Smithson, followed by the lumbering 
right tackle. “Nero fiddled while Rome burned; 
Hicks makes night hideous while Bannister is 
defied by the Freshmen — ^here’s where we crush that 
pestiferous insect!” 

Up the two flights of stairs charged the panting, 
perspiring football stars, never pausing until they 
reached the door of the room from which issued the 
weird sounds confidently supposed by the warbling 
Hicks to represent singing. Here the berserk duo, 
unable to make themselves heard above the tumult. 


3 


5 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


belabored the panels lustily, adding forcible kicks 
for good measure. 

At last the portal, unable to withstand the vigor- 
ous assault, yielded, and Butch Brewster, assisted by 
Beef McNaughton’s plunge, catapulted into the deb- 
onair presence of Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr. 



‘‘Hail, Hercules and Hector!’’ greeted the bean- 
pole youth pleasantly, discreetly stowing the offend- 
ing banjo away in the closet. ‘‘Just dropping in 
for a social call ? I thought I heard a noise in the 
corridor, but supposed, naturally, that it was ap- 
plause. Why didn’t you say you desired to enter 
my boudoir?” 


6 


HICKS— AS OF OLD! 


Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., whose paternal an- 
cestor owned several Pittsburgh steel mills, and who 
came to his alma mater’s Commencements in a pri- 
vate car, was the most popular collegian at old Ban- 
nister, and not on account of his “Dad’s” predatory- 
wealth. 

No one who met the blithesome, sunny-tempered 
Hicks, with his loyal, generous soul, his care-free, 
happy-go-lucky disposition and his scatter-brained 
escapades could resist him. In his Freshman year 
his room had become a rendezvous for students 
from every class — athletes or mere “grinds,” he was 
a true friend to them all. 

Possessed of the Herculean proportions of a full- 
fledged Jersey mosquito, he had kept the college 
in a hilarious uproar in his Freshman existence by 
his ridiculous athletic endeavors. Now, however, 
he had grown indolent, and already in his Soph- 
omore term he seemed resigned contentedly to a 
career, consisting mostly of banjo-twanging, roaring 
songs, playing host to his many friends, and eating ^ 
downtown at “Jerry’s.” 

“You utterly useless, campus-cluttering fragment 
of inhumanity!” Big Butch seemed about to ex- 
plode. “You fusser, you pillow-punishing, banjo- 
plunking tailor’s dummy! You animated bean-pole 
— what earthly good are you, anyway, to ’19? Your 
chief worry is to get clothes to fit that toothpick 


7 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


anatomy! You imagine that life is a continual 
round of eating and singing! You were going to 
take your college course so seriously — ^bah !’’ 

‘‘Them’s cruel words, Butch !” chirped Hicks 
grammatically, posing before the mirror, and ad- 
justing with loving care a tie of luridly futuris- 
tic design. “Have a care, or I shall arise in my 
wrath and crush you! My phenomenal detective 
powers inform me that you and Beef are intensely 
wrathful; therefore, I deduce that something is 
wrong !” 

That youthful Goliath, Beef McNaughton, 
pounced on the grinning Hicks, tucked him under 
one arm, and strode over to the window. Setting 
his helpless classmate on his feet again, he pointed 
across the Quadrangle to the hotbed of Freshman 
anarchy — Creighton Hall. 

^‘That is what is wrong!” he stormed. “Was it 
like that in Creighton last year, Hicks, when we 
were Freshmen? Has any first-year class ever been 
so defiant and insolent as this one? As president 
of the Sophomore Class, you must act. What are 
are you going to do ?” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., dodging away to a safe 
distance from his two bulky fellow-Sophomores, 
decorated his cherubic countenance with an expres- 
sion of such absolute consternation that they were 
highly gratified, believing he was aroused at last. 


8 


HICKS— AS OF OLD! 


But Butch, a second later, discovered that the irre- 
pressible youth was peering into the mirror, appar- 
ently aghast at the disarray of that incorrigible tie ! 
must change it,’' murmured Hicks reflectively, 
can never study my Math with my necktie six 
inches out of whack! Oh, I beg pardon. Beef — 
were you remarking about the trifling disturbance 
over in the Freshman dormitory?” 

It shall be to the undying glory of Butch Brew- 
ster and Beef McNaughton that they stayed their 
hands at that moment ; with marvelous self-control, 
the big fullback crushed down a mighty impulse 
to fall on the grinning collegian and smite him, hip 
and thigh. Instead, he said quite calmly: 

’19 faces a crisis, old man! You know that if 
those Freshmen continue to defy and ridicule us, 
the upper-classmen will jeer, and our class will be 
the laughing-stock of the campus! If you have 
any class spirit at all, Hicks — be serious 1 ” 

For a moment the sunny smile left the beaming 
face of the toothpick Sophomore, as he gazed across 
at Creighton, where the Freshman turmoil seemed 
to have been redoubled. Then, with his old, confi- 
dent self-assurance, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., airily 
discarded harrowing care as he blithely chirped : 

‘‘Oh, just leave it to me. Butch ! We are pledged 
on our honor as individuals and as a class not to 
haze the Freshmen, and I fear they have learned 


9 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


our secret ! But strategy and diplomacy will 
always conquer sheer physical power. As soon as I 
have an inspiration, I will proceed to quell those 
boisterous spirits!'’ 

Butch Brewster, who never failed to become 
highly indignant at the mild braggadocio of his 
shadow-like classmate, stared at the cheerful Hicks 
in deep disgust. 

‘‘Come on. Beef," he said, after a pause. 
“Hicks is hopeless! To think that we elected that 
brainless string-bean for our class president! And 
for the rest of our college course! The Freshmen 
will stride over T9 with hobnailed boots, for all 
that insignificant atom cares!" 

When the two football giants, rumbling volcanic- 
ally in their anger, had lumbered across the corri- 
dor into Butch Brewster's room, T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., stood at the window — this time, however, he did 
not twang the beloved banjo and play the trouba- 
dour. 

“It is a crisis !" he murmured, as he watched the 
riotous Freshmen across the Quadrangle, “but — 
what can we do? Bannister traditions are being 
assailed, my alma mater is in peril of notoriety and 
shame, but we are powerless, since we are pledged 
not to haze !" 

For a long time the Sophomore leader, who was 
generally supposed to be utterly incapable of seri- 

10 


HICKS— AS OF OLD! 


ous meditation, gazed out into the Quadrangle; he 
saw the lights gleaming from the dormitories’ win- 
dows, the white spire of the college chapel, above 
which rode a glorious full moon, and he heard the 
mellow chimes of the ’02 clock in the library tower. 

'^Something must be done!” he breathed, as the 
riot in Creighton increased, until upper-classmen 
demanded why ’19 did not quell the insubordination. 

have got to act, but — what can I do ? I love dear 
old Bannister and — Oh, well. I’ll wait for an in- 
spiration, and then ” 


CHAPTER II 

^VOTES FOR freshmen!’’ 

B ig Butch Brewster one night a week later was 
deep in the mysteries of a logarithm, when a 
vast sound wave poured across the corridor from 
Hicks’ room, fairly inundating the huge Sopho- 
more : 

“Sweet Ad-el-ine — (air) — “My — YAD-del-line !*’ (se- 
pulchral bass) — 

‘‘My— YADeline— ’’ (air)— “MY— YAD-del-line (crim- 
inal tenor) — 

“At night, dear heart — (air) — “At night — dear heart!’’ 
(second bass)— 

“For you I pine — ” (air) — “For you — I — pine!” (awful 
tenor). 

The aroused Butch, stalking noiselessly across the 
corridor from his room to the boudoir of the festive 
Hicks, a pillow in each hand, came perilously near 
a hilarious explosion as he softly pushed the door 


12 


‘‘VOTES FOR FRESHMEN!” 


ajar and gazed at the slim youth — the instigator of 
the saengerfest. 

Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., serenely unaware 
of his impending doom — his feet propped on the 
radiator, and his chair, balanced precariously on two 
legs, tilted back at a rakish angle — was rendering, 
presumably from the book in his hand, a most senti- 
mental ballad. 

As the blithesome troubadour was carrying the 
air, inserting an abyssmal bass at intervals, alter- 
nating with an atrocious tenor, and frequently 
achieving a disgraceful and blood-curdling falsetto, 
the results of the three-in-one warbling were posi- 
tively appalling! 

“Take that — you desperado!’' howled the wrathy 
Butch, kicking wide open the portal and opening 
fire with deadly aim. “And this — you destroyer of 
human happiness ! Aha ! The villain of the drama 
is overthrown. I have encompassed his downfall, 
and Right has triumphed!” 

The first fusillade caught the unsuspecting Caruso 
in the face, effectually choking off his song; as he 
clawed desperately at the atmosphere to regain his 
equilibrium, the second broadside a la Butch landed 
heavily on his neck. He fought for balance one 
agonizing second — grasping double handfuls of the 
air — then he crashed backward to the floor. 

Overthrown, but unconquered, the irrepressible 


13 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Hicks held up his book, waved his feet gracefully 
in air, and from his prostrate position continuing 
to essay, with indifferent success, the three parts, 
he chanted on : 

‘ffn all my dree-yums — ” (air) — “In all my dreams 
(bass) — 

“Your fair face beams — ’’ (air) — “Your fair face — 
bee-yums !” (tenor) — 

“You are the i-dol of — my heart, swee-eet Ad-del-line — 
(air)— 

“Swee-eet Ad-del-line (voice from the tombs). 

''Shut upr roared Butch, showing his intense 
appreciation of Hicks’ operatic endeavor.' ‘‘That 
isn’t a song book, you brainless lunatic — it’s ‘The 
Odes of Horace’ ! How can you make a bluff at 
studying when you hold the book upside down, you 
minus quantity!” 

“I prithee, dear, kind Butch,” began Hicks, 
airily, “heed; I turned it upside down, hoping the 
Latin verse would flow to my head! If Mr. Hor- 
ace was glad because he ‘owed so much,’ why didn’t 
he write his old Odes in English? To me. Butch, 
his Odes are perfectly odious — ha! ha! A joke! 
Make note of that for the Bannister Weekly! Hon- 
est, old man, I was studying, but I felt a singing 

spell come on me, and ” 

Butch, mounting to the rostrum — the tiger-skin 
rug in mid-floor — glared at the grinning Hicks, who 


14 


^‘VOTES FOR FRESHMEN!” 


was industriously jotting down the paralyzing joke 
for future reference. 

‘"Hicks,” began the football star earnestly, 
“can’t you realize just how useless your career at 
Bannister really is, and how wrong it is for you to 



waste heedlessly the splendid opportunities that 

golden college years offer to ” 

“This way, ladies and gentlemen!” bawled the 
incorrigible Hicks, after the fashion of a side show 
“Ballyhoo” man. “Reserved seats for the lecture — • 
don’t crowd, plenty of time ! The Celebrated Chau- 
tauqua Chatterer, Mr. Butch Brewster, will speak on 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


— an average of twice a second! Mr. Brewster 
spoke before the Crowned Heads of Europe — could 
choke him off ! He — Ouch, Butch, you hurt 

The behemoth Butch, tackling the splinter 
Sophomore, hurled him on the davenport ; then, pin- 
ning him down by planting a ponderous knee on 
his care-free classmate’s chest, he proceeded with 
his lecture — fatuously intended to show the heedless 
Hicks the error of his ways. 

‘'You were going to be serious this year!” 
stormed Butch, emphasizing his remarks by prod- 
ding the helpless Hicks. “Last Commencement you 
vowed to take college life earnestly! You resolved 
to build yourself up by regular Gym exercise, so 
as to make a Bannister first team before you grad- 
uate! You determined to plug away and make 
your Dad happy by winning your athletic B — 
which you promised to win in three sports! 

^'Bah! You went to Gym once, yanked the chest- 
weights out of whack, nearly beheaded a dozen ath- 
letes by your wild Indian-club swinging, and you 
quit! Too lazy to persevere, though you know your 
Dad’s ambition is ” 

“I was too muscle-sore. Butch!” protested the 
prostrate Hicks ; “besides, I have a wonderful 
scheme for winning my football B. Just wait until 
I have practiced it for a year or so !” 

“We elected you class president,” thundered 


i6 


“VOTES FOR FRESHMEN!” 


Butch, “and that great responsibility, far from 
awakening you to serious thoughts, made you worse 
than ever! You are the same futile, heedless, but- 
terfly scapegrace you were last year. No ambition 
but to look like a tailor’s model, roar silly songs, 
and give blow-outs down at Jerry’s!” 

In fact, during the two weeks of his Sophomore 
year that had passed, despite the repeated and scath- 
ing denunciations of Butch Brewster, Hicks seem- 
ingly had accomplished nothing. Though unani- 
mously elected class leader, the honor rested lightly 
on his devoted head, and he failed to respond by 
striving to put the Freshmen in their place, to the 
wrath of his loyal friend. 

Hicks’ room in Smithson Hall, as in Creighton 
in his Freshman year, was across the corridor from 
Butch Brewster’s. The cozy den of the sunny Soph- 
omore was always open house to all — his friends, 
classmates, and the upper-classmen made his cheery 
quarters a rendezvous. Athletes and “boners,” the 
famous or the obscure, were welcome alike, and 
Hicks was happiest when playing host to a jolly 
crowd. 

“And those Freshmen,” growled Butch, freeing 
his prisoner, “growing more swaggering and impu- 
dent each day — and here you loaf, singing sentimen- 
tal songs, and ” 

“Wait — Butch!” Hicks was as near being re- 

17 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


sentful as his genial nature permitted. ‘‘Hold on! 
You know, old man, that Jack Merritt’s anti-hazing 
crusade, which he started last year to explain why 
his class stopped hazing, when I forced him to quit, 
has proven a boomerang! Our hands are tied by 
our pledges. ' What can I do with the Freshmen, 
handicapped as I am by ’’ 

“Forgive me, Hicks!” begged Butch remorse- 
fully. “You are right. We cannot blame you for 
the attitude of the Freshmen — Prexy is to blame! 
Your triumph over Jack last year has proven a 
boomerang, for a fact, and now it comes back and 
floors us Sophomores!” 

At that instant a thunderous chorus broke out 
on the third floor of Creighton Hall, the Fresh- 
men dormitory — directly across the Quadrangle 
from Hicks’ windows. Evidently at a prearranged 
signal, the first-year students appeared at their win- 
dows, armed with megaphones, and they fairly 
boomed the song : 

‘‘There's a hole in the bottom of the sea ! 

And we’ll put old ’19 in that hole — 

In that hole — in that hole — 

Oh, we’ll put old ’19 in that hole !” 

Then pandemonium broke loose in Creighton — a 
perfect bedlam reigned supreme. A noise that 
shamed the combined clamor of an earthquake, a 
cyclone, a European artillery battle, and a thunder- 


18 


‘‘VOTES FOR FRESHMEN!” 


storm blared forth. The meek and lowly Freshmen 
popularly supposed by all campus traditions to be 
intensely quiet, were effectually shattering campus 
law and stillness. 

‘‘Butch — look!” shrieked the astounded Hicks, 
who had crossed to the window at the outburst. 
“Just look across there — look!'’ 

Thus commanded. Butch Brewster rushed to the 
window and gazed, and the bewildering spectacle 
that he beheld literally paralyzed him. Petrified, 
the two Sophomores stood, staring dumbly across 
the Quadrangle at Creighton Hall, the abode of their 
natural enemies — the Freshmen. 

The usually dignified dormitory resembled the 
front of a moving-picture theater ; several flamboy- 
ant signs and posters, painted in monster letters 
and riotous colors, hung from the windows. In the 
bright light of the Quadrangle — formed by the four 
dormitory buildings — every lurid-hued word could 
plainly be seen by all upper-classmates. 

A hallway ran through each dormitory, from 
the Quadrangle court to the outer campus, with 
an entrance at each end. Over the Quadrangle 
doorway to Creighton Hall was stretched a long 
white banner, announcing, in big, blazing red 
letters : 

THIS IS INDEPENDENCE HALL— THE HOME 
OF FREE FRESHMEN ! WE ACKNOWLEDGE NO 


19 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


SOPHOMORE RULE! THE CLASS OF 1920 IS 
ABSOLUTELY UNSHACKLED! 

From a third-floor window — suspended on wires 
running to the next — a huge sign flared across the 
wall of the Freshman dormitory: 

VOTES FOR FRESHMEN! Headquarters of THE 
FRESHMAN EQUAL SUFFRAGE LEAGUE! We 
Demand EQUAL RIGHTS with all upper-classmen ! 
We want Freshman representation on the Athletic Asso- 
ciation Advisory Board — the right to have Team Captains 
elected from our Class — WE WILL HAVE Class Officers 
—colors— and a Yell ! WE DEMAND THE VOTE in 
all Student Mass ' Meetings ! And — WE ARE MILI- 
TANT ! 

Under this was a smaller poster, but in big letters 
and extremely hectic colors : 

Our Motto Is— LIBERTY— EQUALITY- 
FRATERNITY ! 

But the crowning master stroke of the militant 
Freshmen was an intensely vivid banner adorn- 
ing a window of Creighton exactly opposite that of 
Hicks, across the Quadrangle. To make sure that 
it could be read, lighted candles had been placed 
behind the thin cloth, which stretched across the 
lower sash. Appalled, Hicks and Butch made out : 

We Know THE TERRIBLE SECRET of ’19! If 
T. HAVILAND HICKS, JR., wants to Find Out Who 
is BOSS around here— LET HIM START SOME- 
THING! ! The One-and-Only Class Leader at Bannister 
is Our Own— RODDY PERKINS ! 


20 


‘TOTES FOR FRESHMEN!” 


The Freshman riot had been well timed and mar- 
velously executed, fairly stunning the college. At 
that hour no professors were likely to enter the 
Quadrangle and behold Creighton's gorgeous face. 
If any Faculty protest as to the turmoil were regis- 
tered, it would come from the outer campus, to 
which their dormitory presented a decorous front. 

The Freshmen, taking advantage of a peculiar 
situation — to be explained later — which seemed to 
render '19 helpless, had revolted against Bannister 
tradition. From time immemorial it had been an 
unwritten law at all colleges and universities that 
Freshmen must not enter fully into campus life until 
their first year was ended. 

Yet these first-year collegians, instigated by a 
master-mind, had demanded equal rights, and a 
vote in all student proceedings at Bannister. 

As the stunned Butch Brewster and T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., stared across the Quadrangle at the 
headquarters of the Freshman Equal Suffrage 
League, which greatly resembled some political 
ward rendezvous, windows in Nordyke and Ban- 
nister — ^Junior and Senior dormitories — flew up, 
heads were thrust out excitedly, and voices shouted : 

‘‘Oh, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., do you see thatf 

“What’s the matter, Hicks — are you asleep ?” 

“Oh, you Sophs! What are you going to do 
about it?” 


3 


21 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘‘Rah for the Freshies ! Start something, Hicks, 
and see who is Boss!'' 

There was a stampede in the corridor, and in 
rushed Beef McNaughton, his fellow-behemoth. 
Pudge Langdon, the excited “Ichabod” — that sky- 
scraped Sophomore and little Theophilus Opper- 
dyke, the “grind’’ who worshipped Hicks. Outside 
the room crowded more wrought-up second-year 
students, Cherub Challoner, Billy Harnsworth, Don 
Carterson, Chub Chalmers, and even the apathetic, 
listless “Hooligan” Hughes. 

“What are you going to do about it, Hicks?” 
raged Beef, while Ichabod’s protuberant Adam’s 
apple bobbed ludicrously as he strove to speak. 

“Let’s rush the impudent Freshmen!” shouted 
little “Skeet” Wigglesworth, a highly excitable 
Sophomore. “Come on fellows. I’ll lead!” 

But Hicks was himself again. Quieting the tu- 
mult with upraised hand, for they looked to him as 
class president, he grinned as of old, and addressed 
his perturbed classmates. 

“No violence,” he warned; “they greatly out- 
number us, and have some splendid athletes in their 
class. No — this is a crisis, fellows, and it must be 
handled with diplomacy. The One-and-only Roddy 
Perkins has hurled his hat into the ring. So be it — 
here goes my figurative chapeau after it !” 

“Where are you going?” demanded Pudge, as 


22 


^‘VOTES FOR FRESHMEN!” 


the awakened Hicks, electrified to action, picked 
him. Beef, Ichabod, and Butch to accompany him 
on some mission. 

Roddy Perkins room,” said Hicks cheer- 
fully. Evidently, he is the master-mind of this un- 
paralleled villainy. I wish to cross rapiers with him, 
to find if he is a foeman worthy of my steel !” 


CHAPTER III 


RODDY PERKINS MASTER-POLITICIAN 

S T. Haviland Plicks, Jr., and his aides-de- 



camp strode across the illuminated Quad- 
rangle, the hilarious spectators in the windows of 
the two upper-class dormitories whistled, shouted, 
oflered humorous or sarcastic advice, and hurled 
down on them jeers and ridicule. Several sup- 
posedly dignified Seniors chanted gleefully in 
chorus : 

^‘Hep! Hep! Shoot him if he won’t keep step. 
Hep — Hep!^^ 

A crowd of care-free Juniors in Nordyke con- 
tributed a hastily improvised parody, which they 
delightedly rendered at concert pitch : 

‘Tramps — tramps — tramps — the Sophs are marching! 

On their way to Creighton Hall — 

Mighty Hicks must watch his step, or he'll lose his 
brilliant rep — 

Oh, the Sophomores are marching to a fall I" 


24 


RODDY PERKINS— MASTER-POLITICIAN 


The blithesome Hicks, as he led his Diplomatic 
Corps toward the entrance to Creighton, was won- 
dering what sort of a youth this Roddy Perkins 
would prove to be. Beyond a doubt, the Freshman 
leader was a natural-born politician — he possessed a 
marvelous knowledge of human nature, he knew 
how to plan and execute vast enterprises, and he 
surely must have a commanding personality, to sway 
his classmates as he did. 

With Machiavellian cunning, the first-year chief- 
tain had plotted in absolute secrecy. The flamboy- 
ant, taunting banners and signs had been designed 
and painted without a single upper-classman being 
aware of it — evidently, at a signal, they had been 
flung from the Freshman windows and hung over 
the doorway, at once, by Roddy’s henchmen. And 
this had been done at fifteen minutes past ten o’clock, 
so that the dazed Sophomores could hardly begin 
revenge before ‘flights out,” fifteen minutes later. 

As the wrathful Sophomores reached the entrance 
to Creighton, the lights in the dormitories and Quad- 
rangle grew dim, and then went out, plunging every- 
thing into darkness. Usually, after the college 
dynamo shut down at ten-thirty, a few electric lights 
in the Quadrangle fed by a wire from the town plant 
glowed all night; now, however, Hicks found that 
the Freshmen had removed the bulbs, so as to insure 
absolute gloom in the court. 


25 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘‘Hicks/’ breathed the alarmed Beef, clutching 
his leader frantically, as they halted, dazed by the 
enshrouding blackness, “what does it mean ? Listen 
— the whole Freshman class is coming downstairs!” 

Simultaneously with the total darkness of the 
Quadrangle, the thunderous tread of marching hosts 
resounded in the corridors and on the stairway of 
Creighton. Evidently, the flaunting forth of the 
spectacular banners, in itself a master-stroke, had 
been only the heralding of something more vast. 

“Quick!” ordered Hicks, himself setting the ex- 
ample. “Sprint through the hallway to the campus 
— it’s dark there, and we won’t be seen !” 

Standing in the doorway that opened on the outer 
campus, the bewildered members of 1919 waited; 
the ominous tread grew louder, the stairway shook 
under the regular tramp of numberless feet, and 
then 

Nearly a hundred Freshmen poured into the hall- 
way, and marched along it toward the Quadrangle, 
headed by an impromptu band consisting of two 
blaring cornets, a banjo, two guitars, a screechy vio- 
lin, and a wheezy accordion. Atrociously butchering 
“It Looks Like a Big Night To-Night,” the embryo 
Sousas joyously endeavored to destroy the rest of 
any slumbering upper-classmen, and — succeeded. 

Most of the vast procession, marching in double 
file, bore lighted candles, a few had lanterns, and 


26 


RODDY PERKINS— MASTER-POLITICIAN 


many carried lighted lamps, until it seemed that 
Gideon's band must have been resurrected. Shout- 
ing and singing, with that medley orchestra always 
perpetrating discordant chaos, the exuberant Fresh- 
men paraded around the Quadrangle — a mighty 
host. 



“^A nightshirt parade,’ stammered Ichabod.” 


‘‘A nightshirt parade!" stammered Ichabod, as 
the transfixed Sophomores crept around the dormi- 
tory and stood by the corner of the Quadrangle, 
protected by darkness. ‘What is it, anyhow, fel- 
lows?" 


27 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Every Freshman had slipped on his robe-de-nuit 
over his other clothes. The horde of ghostly forms, 
distinct in the flickering light from the candles, lan- 
terns, and lamps, carried a number of transparen- 
cies, as the banners of political marchers are called 
— a box-like arrangement with the four sides made 
of thin cloth, mounted on a pole, with a lighted 
candle inside to show up vividly the painted words. 

VOTES FOR FRESHMEN! 
predominated, with 

LIBERTY— FRATERNITY— EQUALITY ! 
a close second. One enormous sign read : 

Down with Despotism ! ’Rah for Roddy Perkins 
and a Square Deal! 

Another proclaimed luridly : 

We Demand EQUAL RIGHTS for Freshmen! 

Evidently, the same master-artist painted those 
banners who had designed the fervid ones on 
Creighton Hall. 

‘T still fail to get the idea!’’ murmured Hicks, 
as the Freshmen, in a solid phalanx, drew up in the 
Quadrangle, facing their dormitory, and indulged 
in an inexplicable silence. ‘‘Oh, now I see — a 
Freshman mass meeting, but cleverly arranged for 
the benefit of the upper-classmen! Look!” 


28 


RODDY PERKINS— MASTER-POLITICIAN 


With the rest of the campus and the entire four 
dormitories enveloped in darkness, except for the 
lights of a few midnight oil-burning grinds, the 
flaring illuminations of the first-year students and 
the contrast of the gleaming white nightshirts 
against the inky blackness in the background made 
an impressive spectacle for the excited collegians 
watching from the dormitory windows above. 

Suddenly, two big Freshmen — whom Hicks rec- 
ognized as Bif¥ Pemberton and Hefty Hollings- 
worth, second-team gridiron stars — stepped from 
the window of the Freshman Equal Suffrage League 
— both sashes having been removed — out on the 
third floor fire-escape landing. They bore two gas- 
oline torches, such as are used by soap-box orators, 
patent-medicine shows, and small-town political 
speakers. These they fastened to the wall on each 
side of the window-frame. 

‘'Fellow-Freshmen Hefty, a Herculean youth 
with a serious countenance, raised his arms elo- 
quently. “We are assembled tonight for the pur- 
pose of discussing Freshman Equal Rights! Desir- 
ing that our Cause be fully known to the despotic 
Sophomores and the haughty upper-classmen, we 
thus publicly announce our campaign for the 
Vote ! 

“I take great pleasure in introducing to you 
Freshmen — and to the Bannister campus — the ora- 


29 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


tor of the evening, our own leader — Mr. James 
Roderick Perkins!’’ 

Then pandemonium broke loose. The excited 
Freshmen howled their intense delight, the upper- 
classmen applauded uproariously, and the polyglot 
band, abandoning concerted effort, strenuously 
added its quota of noise to the general tumult. While 
this clamorous ovation shook the Quadrangle, the 
already celebrated James Roderick Perkins stepped 
out through the open window. 

He stood between the garish, smoking torches, 
one hand resting on the fire-escape rail, the other 
thrust into his coat breast, a la Chauncey Depew. 
As he surveyed the ‘‘sea of upturned faces” below 
him, his grin broadened amazingly, and his cheru- 
bic countenance beamed with unmistakable exulta- 
tion. 

Roddy Perkins was possessed of an original 
personality, and instinctively Hicks liked him im- 
mensely at sight. He was an athletic, finely built 
youth, with a freckled face and fiery red hair; 
his expression, honest and humorous, inspired trust, 
and a quizzical gleam lurked in his merry blue 
eyes. 

Radiating good nature, brimful of high spirits, 
and literally bubbling over with life, the Freshman 
impressed Hicks as being a hard, clean fighter, a 
bulldog type that unquestionably tackles terrible 


30 


RODDY PERKINS— MASTER-POLITICIAN 


odds, and hangs on like grim death. Sportsmanlike 
and honorable, original and brilliant, afraid of noth- 
ing, and hungry for excitement — he was a splendid 
leader, and a most dangerous rival! 

And his infectious grin! No wonder his class- 
mates followed him blindly into such a rash enter- 
prise as this votes-for-Freshmen campaign — that 
magnetic, heart-warming smile of Roddy's simply 
would not be denied ! 

^‘He looks like the Cheshire cat!" commented 
Hicks cheerily as Roddy Perkins bowed graciously 
right and left, acknowledging the salvos of applause 
that shook the dormitories. ‘‘So that is my Fresh- 
man rival ! I must confess I haven't bothered to look 
the Freshies over, but he is ‘The Man of the Hour' 
now ! A trifle more athletic than myself. Butch, and 
he has inspirations, too. Look at this demon- 
stration ! Oh, I don't believe I shall find my Soph- 
omore year so dull, after all!" 

“The applause fairly rocks the campus !" growled 
Butch, as the hilarious upper-classmen, gleeful at 
this sensational exploit of the Freshmen, expressed 
their pleasure. “They are rocking Roddy with 
applause, but — I would like to applaud him with 
rocks !" 

The Freshman leader raised his hand dramatic- 
ally, and immediately a thunderous shout from the 
Quadrangle arose : 


31 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


''Hurrah for Roddy Perkins ! Hail, Roddy, King 
of the Freshmen!'’ 

Then the One-and-only-Roddy, a sublime ex- 
pression on his face, distinct in the torch-light, and 
seemingly imbued with a firm belief in the inherent 
justice of his Cause, spoke: 

"Freshmen and Brothers-at-Bannister : Tonight 
witnesses the launching of a votes-for-Freshmen 
campaign; tonight shall see History in the mak- 
ing! Scorning subterfuge, fearlessly we announce 
to the campus our glorious crusade! Remember 
this is but the beginning; we shall never turn back- 
ward! We have put our hands to the plow-handle; 
we shall never cease to march onward until the ship 
of Freshman State has sailed into the harbor of 
Success !" 

"Hear! Hear!" shrieked the Freshmen below, 
while the upper-classmen applauded Roddy's clas- 
sically mixed metaphors. 

"For decades — " proclaimed the youthful De- 
mosthenes, whose voice had startling carrying 
powers, "for centuries — eons — eternities — the old, 
infamous system of campus feudalism has existed! 
Freshmen have been hazed, bossed, trampled on, 
and ground into the dust beneath the iron heel of 
upper-class domination 1 They have endured perse- 
cution, the tortures of a Spanish Inquisition, with- 
out one right or privilege ! 


32 


RODDY PERKINS— MASTER-POLITICIAN 


‘‘I ask — why should not we Freshmen, paying as 
much as any upper-classman for our education, 
levied on for Athletic Association dues, toiling on 
the scrub teams without glory, why should we not 
have a vote in student affairs? Why should we 
not demand a class organization, yell and colors, 
and a voice at Bannister?’’ 

‘‘Your class has a voice, all right!” shouted a 
joyous Junior from Nordyke. “Use that foghorn 
of yours, Roddy!” 

“I have originated the Freshman Equal Suffrage 
League!” Roddy thundered on. “I have struck a 
lusty blow for Freedom! I shall continue to smash 
sledgehammer blows at timeworn tradition, at un- 
written law’^s that condemn Freshmen to servitude 
and serfdom ! I shall fight until I uproot the entire 
rotten system of campus caste and class distinction, 
until I knock forever the shackles from my down- 
trodden fellow-creatures. 

“This is my dream, my ultimate ambition — ” 
Roddy’s face wore the rapt expression of one see- 
ing a vision. “No class caste, no upper-class 
tyranny over Freshmen, but a glorious Fraternity 
of Bannister students, with Freshmen, Sophomores, 
Juniors, and Seniors all working equally for a 
common cause, our alma mater! We shall conquer 
popular prejudice here, and preach our propaganda 
until every student belongs to our great Brother- 


33 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


hood, whose motto is ‘LIBERTY — FRATER- 
NITY-EQUALITY!’ ” 

A mighty storm of shouts, whistles, and catcalls 
greeted this intensely dramatic climax; the Fresh- 
men went wild, the band blared forth “For He’s a 
Jolly Good Fellow,” and the grinning Roddy Per- 
kins bowed again and again. From the applause 
of the dormitory watchers, it seemed that the cause 
had gained many enthusiastic supporters, to the dis- 
may of the silent Sophomores in Smithson. 

Hefty Hollingsworth, master of ceremonies, an- 
nounced from the rostrum that after the band had 
entertained with a few selections, the Freshman 
leader would speak again, outlining to his hearers 
the scope and purpose of the votes-for-Freshmen 
campaign. 

Over by the corner of Creighton, in the outer 
darkness. Butch Brewster gripped the apparently 
paralyzed Hicks by the arms, and sibilated hoarsely : 

“Hicks, will you do absolutely nothing? Don’t 
you see those crazy Freshmen are getting the upper- 
classmen with them? Here you loaf, pursuing a 
watchful waiting policy, while danger threatens 
’19!” 

“I’ve been waiting for my inspiration. Butch!” 
chuckled the festive Hicks, who seemed not in the 
least perturbed by the Freshman demonstration. 
“How often have I told you that I never work with- 


34 


RODDY PERKINS— MASTER-POLITICIAN 


out one? However, I have just been smitten with 
a most brilliant idea, fellows, and if you will follow 
me, ril deliver my answer to Roddy Perkins!’’ 

In vain the four Sophomores implored their 
leader to outline his great plan. T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., only laughed softly, ordered them to line up in 
single file before him, and then announced : 

‘T have now organized what shall become famous 
in Bannister history as the ‘Hicks Firing Squad.’ 
Like the immortal Light Brigade — only you will 
work in the dark — ^yours is not to reason why. 
Ready, Firing Squad — forward, march!” 


CHAPTER IV 

THE HICKS^ FIRING SQUAD 

A S the mystified Sophomores followed the still 
chuckling Hicks around the corner of Creigh- 
ton, they bumped somewhat violently into Jack 
Merritt and Babe McCabe, his classmate, who had 
returned from downtown just in time to hear the 
climax of Roddy Perkins’ oration. Unable to de- 
cide what it was all about, the two bewildered 
Juniors had paused at the Quadrangle. 

‘Uome on. Jack,” called Hicks softly. ^‘Ask no 
questions, you and Babe, but if you want to par- 
ticipate in a jolly lark, fall in line! I need your 
mighty pitching arm. Will you accept my word 
that we are booked for some sport?” 

^‘Sure!” responded Jack, falling in behind Butch, 
while big Babe unquestioningly enlisted. ‘Tf this 
is one of those famous Hicks’ Personally Con- 
ducted Tours I have heard of, count on me. But 


36 


THE HICKS’ FIRING SQUAD 

say, what meaneth the unseemly riot in the 
Quad?” 

His query went unanswered, for at that moment 
the expedition, having headed across the outer cam- 
pus for the building that held the dining-room, 
kitchen, and storerooms, with the coal-cellar and 
storage bins in the basement, encountered an un- 
foreseen obstacle. 

They collided with the night-watchman, who 
came suddenly from the kitchen, swinging his lan- 
tern in the darkness like a freight brakeman on duty. 
The collegians were paralyzed with alarm, but the 
incident was not regarded as a tragedy by the debo- 
nair Hicks, who, it must be confessed, had long ago 
subsidized the nocturnal guardian with friendliness 
and coin of the realm, as a part of his “Safety-First” 
doctrine. 

“What’s this uprisin’?” demanded the rheumatic 
old man, who was called “Cyclops” by the Ban- 
nister youths, since, like that mythical character, 
he possessed but one eye. “Disperse, ye young des- 
peradoes, or blood will flow! Oh, say now, it’s 
Mister Hicks, ain’t it?” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., drew the grumbling night- 
watchman aside and whispered to him earnestly. 
His mystified comrades would have vowed they 
caught the jingle of coins; however, they did hear 
old Cyclops respond protestingly : 


4 


37 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


''No, really, Mister Hicks, I couldn’t do that. 
Wastin’ pufifickly good pertaters is agin’ me code 
of honor. But listen. Mister Hicks, today the chef 
and the cooks sorted over the pertater bins, an’ 
chucked out the bad ones. Now, if ye won’t never 
Jet on I told yer, there’s some baskets of no-good 
spuds standin’ jes’ inside the kitchen door, waitin’ 
to be throwed to the pigs.” 

"They’ll be heaved at worse creatures,” declared 
the joyous Hicks, and a great light, even in the 
darkness, dawned on his waiting squad. "Come on, 
fellows, we must get our ammunition, for the Hicks’ 
Firing Squad is going to the front!” 

Ten minutes later, back at the corner of Creighton 
— each collegian with a basketful of thrown-out 
potatoes under his arm, though most of them were 
quite firm enough for aerial flight — the sunny Hicks 
issued final orders to his Squad. Jack and Butch, 
the famous pitcher and catcher of Bannister’s nine, 
were to steal unobserved up the tower of Smithson 
Hall, and out on the flat roof of the building, as 
they had the surest throwing arms. 

"Beef and Pudge sneak up on the roof of Ban- 
nister,” explained the crafty Hicks, "while Babe 
and Ichabod will direct their fire from Nordyke, 
raking down the face of Creighton, as Butch and 
Jack shoot straight across the Quad. Each detach- 
ment take its place without being seen or detected — 


38 


THE HICKS’ FIRING SQUAD 


watch for the signal at the entrance to the Quad — 
between Creighton and Nordyke. 

^When you see me light a newspaper and wave 
it in the air, heave those potatoes ! Shoot at Roddy 
incessantly, and drop a few shots down into the 
poor, deluded mass of Freshmen. Don’t throw until 
I signal, and then don’t stop until either the last 
potato or the last Freshman has gone!” 

‘‘But — what are you going to do?” demanded 
Butch anxiously. “Will you join some of us as 
soon as you give the signal ?” 

“Leave it to me. Butch!” requested the festive 
Hicks, who seemed to be having a glorious good 
time. “I have just had another refulgent inspira- 
tion, and above all, fellows, don’t shoot until I 
signal, or you will spoil my fiendish plot.” 

In fifteen minutes, without having been observed 
in the excitement by a single student, the Firing 
Squad, literally “armed to the arm,” had divided 
and gained its positions on the three dormitories’ 
roofs. As each building was flat-roofed, and the 
stairway tower rose above it, to step from the tur- 
ret windows out on the roof, even in the dark, was 
an easy matter. 

Secure in the impenetrable gloom, where they 
were unseen, the sharpshooters could hurl down 
havoc on the Freshman hordes, unsuspectingly 
massed in the Quadrangle below. And the two 


39 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


snipers on the roof of Smithson — Jack and Butch — 
could pour a withering fire of potatoes straight 
across the court into the trio of Freshmen on the 
fire-escape landing. 

In readiness for the bombardment, the detach- 
ments awaited the signal, wondering what the 
mysterious Hicks was doing, that he did not wave 
the blazing newspaper in air. The Freshman 
band had played its last encore, the immortal 
Roddy Perkins was speaking again, and still the 
anxious eyes of the impatient roof-batteries saw 
nothing but inky night at the entrance to the Quad- 
rangle. 

With the two flaring gasoline torches on the fire- 
escape, and the Gideon’s Band illumination in the 
Quadrangle — not to mention the distinct targets of 
the white night-shirts — the Firing Squad could not 
fail to register bull’s eyes. 

^‘We Freshmen possess the dread secret of 1919!'’ 
Roddy Perkins was becoming eloquent, waving his 
arms wildly in air. “Why don’t they haze us? 
Why don’t the Sophs and the famous T. Haviland 
Hicks do something now 

His question met with an instantaneous and most 
enthusiastic response. In the darkness beneath the 
Memorial Arch over the driveway entrance to the 
Quadrangle, between Creighton and Nor dyke, a 
light blazed up. T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., waving 


40 


THE HICKS’ FIRING SQUAD 


the burning newspaper above his head, shouted at 
the top of his voice: 

“Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire on the Freshmen ! Give 
them no quarter! Rake them fore and aft with 
shot and shell ! Down with treason ! Aha — a 
bull’s eye!” 

Creighton Hall faced one side of the Quadrangle 
formed by the four dormitories; on the fire-escape 
landing before the Headquarters of the Freshman 
Equal Suffrage League stood the ranting Roddy, 
under the two flaring gasoline torches ; back of him 
were Biff and Hefty. And across the square, on 
the roof of Smithson, were Jack and Butch — mar- 
velously straight shots, and the Bannister battery. 

To the right of the rostrum — as it faced Smith- 
son — Beef and Pudge were ready on Bannister 
Hall’s roof; they were two outfielders, who could 
rake the face of Creighton with deadly effect; atop 
of Nordyke, to the left of the speaker’s stand, were 
Ichabod and Babe, who, if not dead shots, could at 
least shower potatos into the solidly massed Fresh- 
men below. 

Jack Merritt pitched a strike; his missile whirred 
past the startled Roddy’s ear, and crashed into one 
of the gasoline torches, dismantling it, so that it 
fell to the earth like a falling meteor. Butch, as 
calmly as when throwing to catch a base-runner 
at second, shot his first potato into the orator’s mid- 


41 



‘'Roddy suddenly imitated a small boy after 
green-apple debauch.’’ 


THE HICKS’ FIRING SQUAD 


riff, just as he flung out his arms in a gesture, and 
Roddy suddenly imitated a small boy after a green- 
apple debauch. 

Beef and Pudge, leaving the fire-escape landing to 
the tender mercy of the baseball battery, assisted by 
Ichabod and Babe McCabe, tried their skill at tar- 
get-shooting. A potato smashed through the votes- 
for-Freshmen sign, proudly upheld by a Freshman 
in the Quadrangle below. LIBERTY — FRA- 
TERNITY — EQUALITY! was shattered next^ 
then a shower of potatoes assailed and demoralized 
the first-year band. 

It was as though a Zeppelin hovered over Lon- 
don, hurling down explosive bombs. From the 
utter darkness above the Quadrangle, from .three 
sides, the devastating fusillade of potatoes, in vary- 
ing stages of decomposition, continued incessantly. 
At last, completely panic-stricken— without pausing 
to extinguish their lights — the Freshmen broke ranks 
and fled ignominiously, pursued by the deadly fire 
of potatoes. 

The four buildings forming the Quadrangle were 
joined, except between the ends of Creighton and 
Nordyke. Here the square was entered by a con- 
crete walk and a driveway, both passing under the 
Memorial Arch, over which the two dormitories 
came together, as did the others. The Quadrangle 
entrance to each dormitory extended, in a hallway, 


43 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


on through to the outer campus, so that usually 
there were five means of exit from the closed 
court. 

Now, as the routed Freshmen rushed from the 
Quadrangle, the plot of T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., 
became manifest. A few minutes he had spent in 
hurrying around the outside of the dormitories, en- 
tering them from the campus, and locking the doors, 
from the inside, that opened on the square. Natu- 
rally, this left but one exit from the trap — the walk 
and driveway out under Memorial Arch. 

The resourceful Hicks, after trapping the Fresh- 
men, had hurriedly attached the Nordyke Hall fire- 
hose to the plug, just outside the Quadrangle, on the 
campus. Then he had passed the hose through the 
Junior dormitory hallway, and after giving the sig- 
nal to his Firing Squad, he took up his stand tempo- 
rarily on the steps, nozzle in hand. Thus he was but 
a few yards from the only exit — under the Arch — 
and the fire-hose could deliver a powerful stream of 
water. 

Like a flock of sheep, the terrified Freshmen 
rushed madly to Creighton, only to find the portal 
locked; then in a frenzy, they fought across the 
Quadrangle to the doorways of Smithson and Ban- 
nister, to meet a similar fate. A struggling, frantic 
mob, the first-year collegians, leaderless, surged to- 
ward the Memorial Arch — always on them de- 


44 


THE HICKS’ FIRING SQUAD 

scended the accurate bombardment — while the 
laughter-stricken Sophomores and upper-classmen, 
from their safe vantage points, roared in hilarious 
glee at the unheralded adjournment of the votes- for- 
Freshmen meeting. 

‘‘Shoot at Roddy!” yelled Hicks, as the horde 
jammed toward the Archway entrance. “Give it to 
him, Firing Squad! Fll fix these Freshmen, for — 
here comes the water T 

With a terrific swish the stream leaped from the 
fire-hose nozzle, nearly wrenching it from Hicks’ 
grasp. Wisely, when the maddened host began its 
rush for the driveway entrance, the Sophomore 
leader had retreated into the hallway of Nordyke, 
locked the door opening on the Quadrangle, as 
well as the one on the outer campus, and aimed the 
hose out of an open window. 

A great shout of horror arose from the Fresh- 
men as they saw how they were trapped. Unable 
to protect themselves from the terrible hail of po- 
tatoes, frightened in the darkness, for they had dis- 
carded their lights in the rush, they knew they must 
escape. And with the doors to the dormitories 
locked, they had to choose the Memorial Arch exit, 
and — ^that awful, leaping stream of water. 

“Drown the Freshmen, Hicks!” shrieked the joy- 
ous Sophomores, leaning from the windows of 
Smithson, elated at this unexpected turn of affairs. 


45 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘‘Dampen their ardor for votes ! That’s it, old man 
— whew, what a bath 

Calmly, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., steadied the noz- 
zle on the window ledge, and shot the stream of 
cold water into the masked Freshmen, who, in striv- 
ing to push through the Archway, had become a 
packed, frenzied mob, shouting, shrieking, and 
fighting to escape. As fast as the first-year stu- 
dents, fleeing the potato fusillade, neared the dark- 
ness of the Arch, Hicks played the hose on them, 
fairly staggering the fugitives with the force of the 
spurting water. 

Not a Freshman in the Quadrangle succeeded in 
getting out until he had been thoroughly drenched. 
When the jam finally broke, and those who fought 
to the campus pulled their classmates aut of the 
passageway, Hicks methodically directed the stream 
at the last-comers, often knocking them off their 
feet as they ran. In fact, knowing the great power 
of the stream, he was careful not to aim the nozzle 
in their faces, lest the rush of water strangle his 
victims. 

Meanwhile, the sharpshooters concentrated a 
scathing fire on the fire-escape landing. Biff and 
Hefty, trying to scramble through the window, with 
the sashes removed, stuck midway and could get 
neither in nor out. The blockade of these two be- 
hemoths left the alarmed Roddy Perkins stranded 

46 


THE HICKS’ FIRING SQUAD 


on the landing, and he started down the ladder under 
a perfect shower of potatoes. 

The solitary gasoline-torch, as yet untouched, 
shed enough luster to illuminate the desperate Fresh- 
man leader, and the baseball stars pitched nothing 
but strikes. The laughing Hicks, having water- 
logged the last luckless fugitive to run the gantlet, 
directed the stream on the trapped Roddy, who was 
driven up the ladder again. 

At last, just as some Freshman with an intellect 
checkmated Hicks by turning off the water from the 
fire plug on the campus, as none dared invade Nor- 
dyke Hall to attack the embryo fireman, the two 
big Freshmen squeezed into the League headquar- 
ters. The defeated James Roderick Perkins, his 
coat over his head, backed to the window; one in- 
stant, still great in his defeat, he paused, exposed his 
face, and shouted: 

''Remember, we have just started our votes-for- 
Freshmen campaign! We can be militant, too, and 
I warn the college to wait, for I shall ’’ 

Smack! Jack Merritt, with a particularly soft 
potato, both fortunately and unluckily for his vic- 
tim, scored a bull's-eye squarely in the counte- 
nance of the Freshman leader. Coughing, splutter- 
ing, uttering unintelligible but extremely distinct 
sounds, he was dragged into the room by his husky 
henchmen, and so retired from the field of dishonor. 


47 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘‘Cease firing!’’ shouted the exultant Hicks, as 
Butch’s last potato carried away the lone gasoline 
torch, and a melancholy darkness settled on the des- 
olate, water-soaked Quadrangle. 

Dropping the fire-hose nozzle, from which gur- 
gled a few drops, the triumphant Sophomore presi- 
dent dashed up the stairway of Nordyke. Believ- 
ing discretion to the the vaster section of valor, the 
victorious Hicks elected to keep onto the roof, and 
make his way over to the tower of Smithson, by 
which he could safely descend to his classmates. 

“The Freshmen seem utterly routed,” he grinned, 
“but I wouldn’t take the chance of falling into their 
hands now, by going down to the campus !” 

Ten minutes later, with the Sophomores hilarious, 
and the upper-classmen rioting with laughter at the 
total downfall of the erstwhile insubordinate Fresh- 
men, the five Sophomores who had some time earlier 
started out to invade Roddy Perkins’ abode, gath- 
ered in Hicks’ room. 

“Decorate your Firing Squad with the Iron 
Cross!” chortled Butch Brewster, beside himself 
with joy. “We have won the fight for dear old ’19 ! 
I hereby humbly apologize, Hicks, old man, for my 
cruel remarks made before the Freshman riot broke 
out ! You awoke at last, and acted, so I ” 

“Fellows,” spoke the slender Hicks, earnestly, 
“that Freshman Equal Rights Campaign to get the 


48 


THE HICKS’ FIRING SQUAD 


vote for Freshmen will cause more excitement and 
trouble on the Bannister campus than anything in 
history. Brains and strategy, tact and diplomacy, 
from now on alone can defeat Roddy Perkins, and 
save our alma mater from disgrace.” 

“Why,” gasped the startled Pudge, “you — ^you 
don’t look for any more trouble, Hicks? We have 
knocked Roddy ” 

Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., gazed thoughtfully 
across the Quadrangle. From the windows of 
Roddy Perkins’ room — The Freshman Equal Suf- 
frage League Headquarters — ^the solitary light in all 
Creighton gleamed ominously. With a cheerful 
smile, the 1919 leader spoke: 

“Down, my beloved classmates, but not out!” 


CHAPTER V 


THEOPHILUS IS SHANGHAIED 

T homas HAVILAND hicks, JR., at half- 

past eight on the night after he had so dra- 
matically adjourned Roddy Perkins’ monster votes- 
for-Freshmen mass meeting, sat at his study- 
table, not, however, engaged in grinding. Opposite 
him stood Jack Merritt, the football captain and 
1918 leader. 

Across the Quadrangle the garish sign. Head- 
quarters of the Freshman Equal Suffrage League, 
adorned the window of the first-year chieftain’s 
room in Creighton Hall. LIBERTY — FRATER- 
NITY-EQUALITY! still blazed out in red let- 
ters, but the other lurid posters had disappeared, 
and a most bewildering atmosphere of quietude 
reigned in the usually noisy Freshman dormitory. 

“Mighty mysterious. Jack,’’ reflected the sunny 
Hicks, recalling the Titian-haired Freshman’s part- 


50 


THEOPHILUS IS SHANGHAIED 


ing defiance on the previous night. ‘‘The lull before 
the storm, Til wager! The One-and-only Roddy 
Perkins is plotting his next sledge-hammer blow for 
the freedom of his shackled, down-trodden fellow- 
creatures. Well, I myself have a dark plot on hand, 
or in Dan Flannagan's hack 

‘T still protest that you take Roddy too serious- 
ly,’’ smiled the football captain, “though to think 
of you taking anything in that fashion makes me 
seem to laugh. However, I found the fateful doc- 
ument you requested — the bulletin that launched 
the famous 1918’s Anti-hazing Crusade, last year, 
and ” 

“ Caused this infamous Freshman insurrec- 

tion nowT finished Hicks, then, rising and assum- 
ing an intensely dramatic pose. “Hist! I see our 
quarry crossing the Quad now. Jack! In a few 
minutes he will climb the stairway to this corridor, 
and pass my door — then, we must act! He may 
put up a terrific resistance, with his Herculean frame, 
but ” 

Theophilus Opperdyke, called the Human Ency- 
clopedia of Bannister, drifted slowly along the cor- 
ridor a few seconds later, completely submerged in 
a most dramatic book entitled, “Theory of the 
Fourth Dimension.” As he plodded past Hicks’ 
open door, the volume held close to his face, he 
vastly resembled a Western Union messenger-boy 


51 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


in the act of delivering a supposedly important tele- 
gram. 

‘‘Avast there, thou juggler of erudite facts!’’ 
hailed the irrepressible Hicks, startling the little 
Sophomore terribly. “Enter my boudoir, thou diver 
into the Sea of Divers Knowledge — joke! As soon 
as the Ben Hur of the campus — to whom I have sent 
a summons — drives his ocean-going chariot into the 
Quad, Theophilus, we three shall set sail for Jerry’s.” 

Theophilus, the most notorious boner at Ban- 
nister, literally oozed into Hicks’ cozy quarters, 
clutching the precious volume tightly, and timorous- 
ly deposited his ninety-seven pounds of humanity 
on the extreme edge of a chair, thus giving the fixed 
impression that he fully expected a bomb to explode 
beneath him, at any instant. 

He was a small, nervous youth with big-rimmed 
spectacles, through which he peered ^ the two col- 
legians in a weirdly owlish fashion, while his gen- 
eral appearance was excessively academic — there- 
fore his title, the Human Encyclopedia; in truth, 
only his diminutive size prevented strangers on the 
campus from addressing him, in the firm belief that 
he was the President of Bannister College. 

“Look at him, Jack!” said Hicks proudly. 
“Solomon the Second! The Savant of the Sopho- 
more Class! Survey that scholastic brow, that al- 
titudinous forehead, that look of wondrous erudi- 


52 


THEOPHILUS IS SHANGHAIED 

tion ! Why, our Theophilus gains fame for his wis- 
dom without uttering a word, because of his ter- 
rifically learned expression! It is an insurance 



“ ‘ Look at him. Jack! ’ said Hicks proudly. ‘ Solomon 
the Second.’ ” 


against being called upon to recite, for all the profs 
are awed when they behold his countenance, they 
take it for granted that he knows all things, and 
they turn their interrogatory batteries on luckless, 
unprepared Sophomores !” 

“I have heard it remarked — ” smiled the Junior, 
who greatly admired the timorous little Sophomore’s 
tremendous learning, “that Theophilus Opperdyke 
can enter a classroom, maintain a wise-looking 


5 


53 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

silence, and come out with a perfect batting aver- 
age! However, I am not traducing his fame as a 
scholar, for he absorbs knowledge like a human 
sponge 1” 

“Theophilus’ idea of a glorious good time,” 
chuckled the incorrigible Hicks, as ’ his faithful 
friend regarded him solemnly, “is to unearth some 
musty tome on a subject so abstruse that Solomon 
himself would never have known what it was about, 
seek some secluded nook, and then dive so deeply 
into its pages that a hundred-fathom line would 
fall fifty feet short of reaching him ! His ambition 
is to annex all the knowledge in the universe, then 
hang out his sign, ‘Bureau of Information,’ and 
go into business for himself!” 

The bewildered Theophilus, who had been star- 
ing at them anxiously, smiled feebly, a Greenwich 
Observatory telescope could never have located his 
sense of humor, besides, he was hungry to pursue 
the thrilling mysteries of The Fourth Dimension! 

“I — I guess I’ll go now, Mr, Hicks, sir — ” he 
quavered, in his absurdly shrill voice, as he twisted 
nervously. As a result of his Freshman experience, 
he still invariably addressed everyone, from Prexy 
down to the Smithson Hall sweep, as “Mr.” and 
“Sir!” “If you don’t need me ” 

“Call me Hicks!” stormed the debonair Sopho- 
more leader, “ and we do need you, Theophilus! 


54 


THEOPHILUS IS SHANGHAIED 


Heed — we are going to shanghai you, and take you 
downtown, in Flannagan’s royal equipage, to Jerry’s 
• — there, you shall be my honored guest at a typical 
^Hicks’ Blow-out!’ After you have entirely sur- 
rounded a big, juicy steak, with accessories, you are 
going to focus that colossal mind on the problem 
that perplexes your true comrade, myself! 

‘‘Honest, old man, Bannister faces a crisis, and 
the Freshmen must be quelled. I need your practi- 
cal judgment and your advice; for the sake of our 
alma mater help me find a way to put the insubor- 
dinate Freshmen in their place — and keep them 
there! Jack and I will explain to you just how such 
an unparalleled state of affairs came to exist, 
and ” 

By no stretch of his none-too-vivid imagination 
could little Theophilus Opperdyke believe that his 
humble judgment could be desired by two such im- 
mortal beings as T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., and Jack 
Merritt — the great football star! Besides, the gen- 
erous Hicks, knowing the limited resources of 
Theophilus’ exchequer, was forever inventing wild 
and weird methods of enticing the grind down to 
Jerry’s for the “eats,” and now, Theophilus natu- 
rally suspected a similar subterfuge. 

“I won’t go, Hicks!” protested Theophilus, who 
was as independent as the thirteen original colonies. 
“It is just a pretext — to lure me down to Jerry’s. 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


You — ^you know I haven’t much spending money, 
and you are always doing such foolish things for me. 
I — I couldn’t ever pay you back for your gener- 
osity, and I simply won’t go with you, Mr. — I mean, 
Hicks!” 

At that instant sounded the rattle of wheels, the 
beat of a horse’s hoofs, the crack of a whip, and a 
loud, “Hicks, ahoy !” The shadow-like Sophomore, 
rushing to the window, beheld a ramshackle hack 
rolling into the brightly lighted Quadrangle. It 
was drawn by an antique horse that possessed won- 
derful somnambulistic powers, since he was cer- 
tainly stumbling forward in his sleep. 

“Hail, Dan Flannagan, Charioteer Imperial to the 
Bannister Campus!” Hicks shouted down. “Prop 
Lord Nelson against the wall; I’ll be down in a 
second with my guests of honor !” 

He whispered with Jack Merritt, and the two ad- 
vanced upon the bewildered Theophilus Opperdyke, 
who, too paralyzed to become a fugitive from Hicks’ 
generous escapade, sat as though transfixed. He 
was perfectly sure that his good friend would never 
harm him in the least, but his independent soul 
chafed at receiving the treat he was financially 
unable to reciprocate. 

“You take his arms, Jack!” laughed the grace- 
less Hicks, “and carry that end, as you’ll have the 
heavier load — his colossal brains! We won’t par- 

56 


THEOPHILUS IS SHANGHAIED 


ley further with you, Theophilus ; you should know 
that to resist T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., when he would 
fain play host is a reckless deed ! Ready — forward, 
march 

The shanghaied Sophomore, powerless to escape, 
was borne down the stairway to the steps of Smith- 
son. Here the expedition paused before the ancient 
turn-out that awaited it, the rickety old hack, bat- 
tered in service, and scarred with the class numerals ' 
of many departed Bannisterites, the somnolent 
horse and driver. 

Atop of the box perched a diminutive weazened 
old man, of very evident Irish descent, arrayed 
festively in an imposing high hat, a bright-red coat, 
yellow riding-breeches, and leather puttees — some 
fox-hunting enthusiast’s discarded regalia. At sight 
of the trio, he arose and surveyed the grinning Hicks 
with extreme indignation written across his wrin- 
kled face in upper-case type. 

‘What d’ye mean. Mister Hicks !” demanded the 
genial Jehu, who had transported Bannister stu- 
dents and alumni for over twenty years, “callin’ up 
the station-agent, an’ havin’ him sind me up to col- 
lege at break-neck speed? Sure, an’ poor owld 
Lord Nelson like to run his heart out, wid me 
thinkin’ ye was sick unto death, an’ was to be tuck 
to the city, bedad! Ye’re up to some wild prank. 
Mister Hicks, an’ sure it’s not honest owld Dan 


57 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Flannagan that wud aid an’ abet ye in yer mischief !” 

“No, I’m not — on my honor as a Sophomore!” 
vowed the heedless Hicks, explaining, while Jack 
Merritt easily stowed the powerless Theophilus in 
the hack, that he intended to give the little student 
a royal set-out. “Drive us down to Jerry’s in less 
than an hour, Dan, and I’ll add a handsome bonus 
to your munificent regular fare!” 

“Gwan wid yer blarney!” responded old Dan, 
who liked this sunny-souled youth, and convinced 
that mischief was not afoot — or plotting to ride 
in his ancient hack. “The owld plug’ll be headed 
to his oats, an’ he’ll break the speed record ! Sure — 
look at the disrespectful baste now — aslape! It’s 
ashamed I be for ye, Lor-rd Nelson, showin’ av 
such indifference in the prisence of Mister Hicks!” 

The arch-conspirator, seeing that his captive was 
seated quietly by one window of the hack, secured 
from the amused Jack Merritt a somewhat impos- 
ing document, printed by hand, in big letters. This 
paper, a trifle timeworn, he handed to the surprised 
Theophilus, who peered at him owlishly. 

“Read it now, Theophilus!” ordered Hicks, for 
the distinct printing could easily be made out un- 
der the Quadrangle arc light, “so that when we ar- 
rive at Jerry’s, you will be ready to hear the ex- 
planations of the way the present Freshmen defy 
us to haze. I am in earnest — you will have to earn 


58 


THEOPHILUS IS SHANGHAIED 

your eats by concentrating your tremendous wisdom 
and common sense — which I sadly lack — on the 
problem at hand V 

Theophilus, staring at the poster through his big- 
rimmed spectacles, as he leaned from the cab-win- 
dow to let the light strike the document, read to 
himself : 

NOTICE — The Class of 1918, believing, after thorough 
judicial consideration, that hazing is an unnecessary and 
dangerous evil, and having always the best interests and 
betterment of our beloved Alma Mater at heart, hereby 
make unanimously the following resolutions: 

First — Be it resolved that the Class of 1918, with com- 
mendable self-sacrifice and mobility of spirit, now and 
henceforth voluntarily resign its inalienable right to haze 
the present Freshmen — further, that it pledge itself, indi- 
vidually and as a Class, never to haze again ! 

Second — Be it Resolved that we hereby pledge our- 
selves to do all within our power to drive hazing forever 
from the Bannister campus, and to carry our Anti-hazing 
Crusade to success ! To this end we beg the earnest co- 
operation of Alumni, Faculty, Upper-classmen, and Fresh- 
men — working together, we can rid our college of an 
ancient evil, and labor for a ‘‘Better Bannister 

The Class of 1918, always first to champion a praise- 
worthy Cause, originates this Movement, and — for the 
sake of the love it bears our Alma Mater — ^willingly sac- 
fices its own right to haze! Let us unite and drive haz- 
ing from the Bannister campus ! 

(Signed) John Hollingsworth Merritt, 
President of the Class of 1918. 

Then followed, in various styles of chirography, 

59 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


the signatures of every member of the class — ^at that 
time, Sophomores. 

“Why,” exclaimed the puzzled Theophilus, “I 
remember when the Sophomores posted this on the 
Gym entrance bulletin-board last year! They had 
been hazing some of our class rather severely, and , 
w'hen they suddenly made these Anti-hazing reso- 
lutions, I was surprised. But — what has this paper 
to do with the present Freshman revolt, and ” 

“Listen to some ancient history, Theophilus,” 
responded Hicks blithely, “so that we may pour 
half the explanation into thy mighty mind, before 
Dan Flannagan urges Lord Nelson downtown at 
a dizzy pace. Heed — this is why our comrade. 
Jack Merritt, launched the Anti-hazing Crusade. 

“Last year I succeeded in getting Jack, then Soph- 
omore, class president and leader of the hazers, into 
a corner. I had him in such a position that unless 
he did what I stipulated, he would be made the 
laughing-stock of the campus. - I need not embar- 
rass him now by explaining how I was able to wield 
the fear of ridicule over him, as a club, but suffice 
it to say I had evidence that would have exposed 
him to ridicule and jeers as long as he remained at 
Bannister.” 

“That is the solemn truth,” averred the Junior 
grinning ruefully at the memory. “He surely got 
evidence that he had cleverly optwitted me, by a 


6o 


THEOPHILUS IS SHANGHAIED 


scientific-detective method, and worst of all, I un- 
wittingly supplied that evidence! I would have 
done almost anything, rather than have him prove 
to the fellows how he outgeneraled me.” 

“To be brief,” Hicks went on, while Theoph- 
ilus, believing that, perhaps, his happy-go-lucky 
classmate did have some purpose in shanghaiing 
him, listened intently, “he capitulated to these 
terms — he was to stop hazing immediately, and give 
his promise not to haze any of T9 again. If he 
kept his word, at Commencement I was to hand him, 
for destruction, the evidence that I had outwitted 
him, and — I was to show the proof to no one, if 
he made good his part. 

“Butch, Beef, Pudge and Ichabod knew of the 
evidence, but they promised secrecy, and their story 
would have been doubted, without proof, which I 
kept locked away. Jack kept his word, as you re- 
member, for all hazing stopped at once, and ’19 was 
left in peace the rest of its Freshman year, The- 
ophilus.” 

“I know,” stammered Theophilus, more bewil- 
dered than ever, “but I always thought the hazing 
stopped because Jack Merritt and T8 started this 
Anti-hazing Crusade, and ” 

“ ‘Thereby hangs a tale !’ ” quoth the festive 
Hicks, climbing up on the box beside the grinning 
Dan Flannagan, while Jack Merritt, taking a seat 


61 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

beside the shanghaied Theophilus, laughed heartily. 
‘‘When we reach Jerry’s, and are assaulting some 
juicy steaks, I will a tale unfold — or Jack will — 
that shall make every hair in thy devoted head 
stand straight up at ‘attention !’ ” 

The driver of the antiquated barouche, who re- 
garded all collegians as mild lunatics, looked at his 
debonair companion quizzically, awoke the slumber- 
ing horse and the Quadrangle echoes, cracking his 
whip as he shouted : 

“Giddyap, Lord Nelson — Mister Hicks has gone 
an’ shanghaied a stoodent, an’ the excitement is 
drivin’ him loony!” 




CHAPTER VI 


^"'to the day!''”' 

J ERRY'S — almost as famous an institution to 
Bannisterites, past or present, as “owld 
Dan Flannagan and Lord Nelson" — was located 
in the middle of a downtown business block. 
The regular restaurant was on the first floor, but 
the astute proprietor had a special room on the sec- 
ond floor, reached by a stairway from the sidewalk, 
which was open to Bannister collegians and alumni 
only. On the third floor he had fitted out a cozy 
banquet-hall, where the college athletic teams, class 
reunions, and other feasting parties held their 
spreads. 

The sunny Hicks, Jack Merritt, and little The- 
ophilus Opperdyke sat at a table in the rendezvous 
for hungry collegians, on the second floor. The 
timorous little boner, gladly obeying an injunction 
of his generous host, was busily ‘‘putting himself 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


outside of big, succulent steak, served a la Hicks, 
imitating the ’19 leader and Jack Merritt, who were 
engaged in a similar pastime, with great success, 

‘To resume, Theophilus — began T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., leaning back between the rounds of his 
bout with the steak before him. “Jack knew that if 
1918 ceased hazing suddenly, just after they had 
been so busy with us Freshmeen, all sorts of embar- 
rassing questions would be asked him as to why he 
stopped the nocturnal expeditions to Creighton Hall. 
Racking his brains for a way to side-step these vexa- 
tious queries, our comrade here was seized by a bril- 
liant inspiration a la Hicks. 

“He originated this Anti-hazing Crusade, and 
the Class of ^18 championed the commendable 
Cause. Notice how they, with excessive modesty, 
inform the public that ’18 is so noble and self-sacri- 
ficing, that they, for the love of their alma mater, 
voluntarily resign their ‘inalienable right' to haze! 
The truth is — they had to quit, Theophilus, but 
Jack cleverly made the campus believe that they 
abandoned hazing because of their altruistic desire 
to push this campaign." 

Theophilus gasped in sheer surprise. He was the 
first collegian, beside the five members of 1919 and 
Jack Merritt, to know that the famous Anti-hazing 
Movement inaugurated by the 1918 leader and 
backed by his class, had not originated in a praise- 


64 


“TO THE DAY!” 


worthy ambition to abolish hazing from old Ban- 
nister. 

“I had no idea of the fatal results,” said Jack 
Merritt. “I figured we would corral some glory, be 
patted on the head by Prexy and the august Faculty, 
avoid a lot of bothersome questions from the fel- 
lows as to why we didn’t haze, and that would end 
it. By Commencement, the Anti-hazing campaign 
would be forgotten completely, I thought, so that 
’19 could haze this year, as usual. But here is what 
most startlingly developed, to my consternation: 

“It seems that our beloved Prexy had long been 
ambitious to rid Bannister of all hazing, Theophilus. 
However, wise in his generation, he had not de- 
manded that the students cease the evil — ^he hoped 
that the reformation would come from within — the 
student body. There seemed no chance of this ever 
happening, and Prexy had about abandoned hope, 
when I started my Anti-hazing Crusade, for the 
reasons Hicks has outlined.” 

The “Theory of the Fourth Dimension,” which 
Theophilus had clung to when shanghaied in Smith- 
son, crashed to the floor, knocked from the table 
by the excited little Sophomore’s arm. Its fall went 
unnoticed, which is evidence that its owner was in- 
tensely interested in Jack’s recital. 

When this Crusade started” — the Junior presi- 
dent spoke again — “Prexy chanced to read these 

65 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

noble resolutions, and straightway he waxed enthu- 
siastic. At last, his dream of a hazing-less col- 
lege was to be realized, for, remember, he believed 
^i8 was sincere.' He adorned our heads with halos, 
he wrote innumerable articles to the newspapers of 
the State about our splendid Cause, he sent a circu- 
lar letter to the alumni, asking their support. 

‘‘Why, our class had its picture in the papers, 
and my countenance disgraced several dailies under 
the caption, ‘Originator of Bannister College Anti- 
hazing Crusade!’ The newspapers played up the 
feature — always a vital one — the public commended 
us, and so did the ministers. And the alumni were 
hearty in their support of a movement that lacked 
the wishes of its originators for success. 

“The nearly fatal hazing accident at Latham Col- 
lege last June, almost resulting in the death of a 
Freshman, shocked the State, and created a mighty 
sentiment against the evil. It was the very thing, 
Theophilus, to sweep our Cause on to success. 
With the public, press, clergy, and alumni back of 
us, we were literally shoved on by the wave of opin- 
ion. Naturally, we had to maintain a fine enthu- 
siasm about the thing we had started.'^ 

“You know the rest,” finished Hicks; “1918 had 
pledged itself to haze no more — it would not have 
done so anyhow, after Commencement. The pres- 
ent Seniors, having nothing to lose, made a similar 


66 


‘‘TO THE DAY!” 

promise, and, friend Theophilus, when our class 
returned to college this fall, ready to haze, as is 
our ‘inalienable right’ — to quote Jack — what did we 
find? 

“Public, press, clergy, upper-classmen, and alum- 
ni all urging us, as the one class that would haze, 
to pledge ourselves on our honor not to do so. 
What could we do to buck that overwhelming sen- 
timent? To become forever notorious as the class 
that defied public opinion and everybody, was utterly 
impossible. We gave our word of honor, as a class 
and as individuals, not to haze, in any manner what- 
soever!'' 

As the dazed little Theophilus — :who had signed 
the Anti-hazing pledge with scarcely an idea of why 
it was presented him — slowly understood how Hicks 
and the Sophomores were helpless to deal with the 
obstreperous Freshmen, secure in the knowledge 
that they were immune from hazing, the grinning 
Jack Merritt swayed in his chair in a paroxysm of 
mirth. 

“Oh, it’s so funny!” he guffawed. You made me 
stop hazing your class, Hicks, and now the boom- 
erang you threw at me last year comes back and 
floors you! Had you never forced me to quit, I 
would never have started that Crusade, and the 
Freshmen would be meek and humble this year. 
Oh, ha! ha! I shall die of laughter!” 


67 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Theophilus himself was startled at the earnestness 
of the usually breezy T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., as he 
looked at the convulsed Jack Merritt, who was weak 
from laughing. 

‘‘Wait,’' said Hicks quietly. “Jack, who has 
to bear the Freshman insolence and bravado — just 
we Sophomores? No — the entire student body! 
Tell me, do the Freshmen address you Juniors and 
Seniors as ‘Mr.’ and ‘Sir,’ as college tradition has 
always demanded ? Are they respectful to you 
upper-classmen, as is your just due? Doesn’t your 
class, too, have to stand the insufferable familiar- 
ity of the Freshmen?” 

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose, did I?” growled 
the Junior, impressed by the unadorned truth of 
these remarks. “Anyhow, I don’t look for any more 
trouble, since you knocked Roddy out last night, 
and ” 

“That’s the worst feature!” exclaimed the ex- 
cited Hicks. “You upper-classmen won’t realize 
that we face a crisis, as is inevitable when traditions 
are assailed. You pursue a tolerant, ‘hands-off- 
let-Hicks-do-it’ policy when your rights are being 
taken away. You regard it as merely a rivalry be- 
tween Roddy Perkins and myself. You think I am 
shouting ‘Wolf! Wolf!’ when the brute is not near. 

“That is why I shanghaied Theophilus and filled 
him with steak. I wanted him to know the crisis 


68 


THE DAY!” 


at hand; I want his practical mind to wrestle with 
the problem, and to suggest some way, if one exists, 
by which the insubordinate Freshmen can be kept 
in their place. Theophilus, ^Get on your mark! 
Get set! Go!’” 

Theophilus, with his owlish expression, his 
pitifully frail body, his thin face, gazed solemnly 
at his comrades; they could almost believe they 
heard the creaking of machinery, as his colossal 
mind tackled the tremendous problem. 

‘‘Oh, if I only could find a way!” he breathed, 
with shining eyes. “I do want to serve old Ban- 
nister — to do something worth while for my alma 
mater. Fm too weak for athletics — I can never 
score a touchdown or win a race for the Gold and 
Green. I do help all I can — I mark the foot- 
ball field, and rub out the fellows after a scrimmage, 
but — I want to do something big, Hicks ! And if I 
can help my college in this crisis, do you believe it 
will be doing a big deed for Bannister?” 

Hicks felt an ache in his throat as he gazed at 
Theophilus, with his pathetically puny body, brim- 
ful of intense college spirit, and loyalty to his; 
class and his alma mater. As a matter of course,, 
the debonair Hicks’ chances of winning his athletic 
B were the same size as those of his becoming Pres- 
ident of the United States, but his sympathy was en- 
tirely for his faithful friend; Theophilus. 


6 


69 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘‘Of course it will, old man,” he vowed earnestly. 
“It will be just as important a triumph for old Ban- 
nister as scoring the winning touchdown, or break- 
ing the tape for the Gold and Green.” 

Then little Theophilus Opperdyke, unconsciously 
assuming the manner of a Supreme Court Justice 
judicially summing up a case, though he was terribly 
serious, spoke slowly : 

“Here are the main points in the affair : first, the 
Freshmen came to Bannister this September fully 
expecting to be hazed, perfectly willing to experi- 
ence the traditional life of the first-year student. 
When they found there could be absolutely no haz- 
ing, most naturally, the relief made them exuberant 
•and insubordinate! 

“Roddy Perkins — possessed of originality and 
personality — can sway his classmates. Without the 
fear of hazing, the Freshmen inevitably began to 
believe that they should have the same rights as 
upper-classmen; hence, their leader found condi- 
tions ideal for the launching of his votes-for-Fresh- 
xnen campaign. 

“A fatal mistake was made when all hazing was 
suddenly abolished, fellows, without any provision 
having been made to supply something in its place! 
In brief, hazing, an acknowledged evil, nevertheless, 
has always been a power for good over the Fresh- 
men; their awe of it kept them in their place, and 


70 


THE DAY!’’ 


now, with that influence rudely torn away, nothing 
has been substituted; hence, they run riot on the 
campus ! 

do not approve of hazing — I am glad it is 
abolished — and yet, since the Faculty cannot at all 
times watch over the Freshmen, the upper-classmen 
should exert some beneficial authority over them! 
By ruling out all hazing, and providing nothing in 
its place, we have removed from a dog a leash that 
chafes, and have not placed a better one on him, 
and — the dog runs wild! 

‘'Now, we must find a substitute for hazing, 
one that is not questionable, one that is just and 
equitable, and yet will produce the same good re- 
sults — -the good behavior of the Freshmen! That 
is the real problem, Hicks/' 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., surprised at the wonder- 
fully logical method of summing up the case, and 
startled at his classmate's speech, which was the 
longest on Theophilus' record, looked at Jack Mer- 
ritt, who was evidently deeply impressed. 

“Well, Theophilus," smiled Hicks, “we shang- 
haied you to make you suggest the solution — have 

you any plan that would solve " 

“Here is my idea,” chimed in Theophilus, his 
big-rimmed spectacles dropping off in his excite- 
ment. “The authority wielded by upper-classmen 
over the Freshmen should be for their own good; 

71 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


that is, instead of awing them into good conduct 
by the fear of hazing, the upper-classmen should 
govern them by rules and laws made with the con- 
scientious aim to help form character. 

‘‘The only solution for this problem is this : Fac- 
ulty authority administered by upper-classmen! I 
mean the upper-classmen to have the full power to 
control all affairs of student life, backed up by Fac- 
ulty sanction, and Faculty punishment for law in- 
fractions^ — the government in the hands of a Student 
Council 

“Oh, you mean Student Self-Government 
breathed Hicks, as excited as his friend. “You are 
right — that would remove any odium of tale-bearing 
ing! The Student Council elected by the students 
and approved by the Faculty, would report to the 
Faculty any insubordination. Under this head the 
Faculty would deal with the present Freshman re- 
volt, without the upper-classmen having been in- 
formers.’’ 

“But,” sighed Theophilus sadly, “we cannot 
have that, Hicks. It is Prexy’s greatest ambition 
to have Student Self-Government at Bannister, for 
I have often talked it over with him — that is why I 
now suggest it. Yet, he believes the time is not ripe 
— he feels the students must be taught its principles 
first — that it must be tested ! So I’m afraid I can’t 
help my alma mater, after all !” 


72 


THE BAYr 


Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., though staring at 
the sorrowful Theophilus, saw him not; instead, 
his mind visioned a flamboyant sign across the 
Quadrangle from his room in Smithson, and the 
red-painted words now blazed before him — LIB- 
ERTY— EQUALITY— FRATERNITY ! 

‘Fraternity,’ ” he repeated reflectively. “Fra- 
ternity — Brotherhood! No, Theophilus, the solu- 
tion is not Student Self-Government, at present — 
at least, not in its fullest form. But you have 
earned your steak. In the corridors of my mind a 
great idea is stirring — indistinct as yet, but I hear its 
distant footfalls. Soon it will burst forth full-pano^ 
plied, as Minerva from the brain of Jove!” 

Rising, he went around the table and put his arm 
across the narrow shoulders of the bewildered The- 
ophilus Opperdyke, who, having delivered his 
splendid speech, was his old, nervous self once 
more. 

“Theophilus, you Human Encyclopedia,” said 
Hicks tenderly, “you have shown me a great light! 
You have ” 

At that moment there was a tremendous uproar 
in the room above — ^Jerry’s banquet hall, where, as 
the three collegians had believed, a jolly crowd of 
upper-classmen had gathered. As some Bannister 
organization or other was forever giving a spread 
down at Jerry’s — the Checker Club, the Dramatic 


73 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

Society, or an informal group of Juniors or Seniors 
— Hicks and his comrades had paid no attention to 
the conversation and laughter above. 

But now chairs were pushed back, there sounded 
the shuffling of feet as the banqueters arose, a 
silence, and then : 

^‘Here^s to Roddy Perkins — drink it down ! Drink it 
down ! 

Here’s to Roddy Perkins — drink it down ! Drink it 
down ! 

He is the chap who sticks — and he’ll beat T. Haviland 
Hicks— 

Drink it down — drink it down — drink it down, down, 
down !” 

^ As the thunderous chorus was roared out by the 
first-year roisterers in the banquet hall above, Jack 
Merritt, with a startled look at the surprised Hicks, 
exclaimed : 

‘‘Freshmen! Hicks — it's Roddy Perkins! What 
can they be plotting now, old man?'^ 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., motioning his companions 
to follow him silently, made his way quickly from 
the room, up the carpeted stairway, to the door of 
the large third-floor room, where the feast was 
spread. The noisy Freshmen, fifteen in all, were 
^ated at a long table, singing and drinking toasts 
in grape- juice — mostly to the glory of their beloved 
leader, Roddy Perkins. 


74 


‘‘TO THE DAY!” 


Evidently some sinister plot had been outlined by 
the Titian-haired youth with the Cheshire cat grin, 
for on a smaller table were scattered sheets of paper, 
and a battered typewriter, commandeered from 
Jerry for their purpose, could be seen. 

Pushing the door ajar a few inches, unobserved 
by the exultant Freshmen, Hicks — with Jack Mer- 
ritt and the timorous Theophilus peering from back 



“ ‘ Remember, fellow-Freshmen! ’ he shouted. ‘The 
tenth of October,’ ” 


pf him — surveyed the boisterous scene. James 
Roderick Perkins, standing at the head of the festal 
board, raised his glass high in air at the conclusion 
of the song, his face flushed with excitement. 

^^Remember, fellow-Freshmen 1” he shouted. 
^The tenth of October — that is the day selected for 
our great coup d'etat! Then shall we strike a 


75 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


mighty blow for Freshman Equal Rights that shall 
paralyze Bannister and win us the Vote! But we 
must stand together; every Freshman must pledge 
himself not to yield an inch, after he has signed the 
document that shall become famous!’’ 

The Freshmen went wild, cheering their popular 
leader madly, and stamping on the floor. Beyond 
a doubt, some master-stroke had been planned — even 
more sensational and demoralizing than the great 
votes-for-Freshmen! mass meeting in the Quad- 
rangle. The brain that had conceived that impres- 
sive demonstration — though routed by the Sopho- 
more leader — was surely capable of even more 
prodigious enterprises. 

The perturbed Hicks hoped to hear something 
that would give him a clew as to what the Freshmen 
would shock the campus with on the tenth of Oc- 
tober ; perhaps he could gain some clew to the mys- 
tery that would enable him to prepare a defense; 
but he was disappointed, for the banquet was evi- 
dently about to adjourn. The leader of 1919 was 
sure that Roddy Perkins had assembled his aides-de- 
camp in this fashion for the purposing of acquaint- 
ing them with the paralyzing blow he intended to 
strike for Freshman Rights. 

The happy-go-lucky Hicks, who was serious 
enough at that moment to have pleased even Butch 
Brewster, surveyed the assembled Freshmen; he saw 

76 


THE DAY!” 


such earnest youths as big Hefty Hollingsworth and 
Biff Pemberton, splendid athletes; such industrious 
students as Grinder Graham and Boner Dunlap. 
Swayed by the personality and winning smile of the 
irresistible Roddy, his classmates were following 
him devotedly in his Cause. 

As for Roddy himself, Hicks, a student of hu- 
man nature, read him as an open book. He beheld 
a youth with Napoleonic dreams and ambitions, with 
the desire to lead, to eclipse in his achievements any- 
thing else ever done at Bannister. He saw a Fresh- 
man who loved the sensational, who was thirsty for 
the glory of accomplishing stupendous things. 
Roddy Perkins — brilliant, original, a born com- 
mander — a collegian who, though the last one to do 
an intentional wrong, would be headstrong and 
heedless in his bulldog determination to succeed in 
whatever colossal enterprise he originated. 

‘‘Before we adjourn,” called Roddy, after the 
glasses had been filled with the beverage Bryan made 
famous, “I want to propose one more toast. You 
fellows know how bitterly the Germans hate Eng- 
land, how they look forward to the day when they 
shall crush their enemy. At every banquet the Ger- 
man military always give this toast standing — ‘To 
the Day!’” 

The young Napoleon, James Roderick Perkins, 
with his glorious dreams of campus conquest at old 


77 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Bannister, paused, motioned his followers to arise, 
and then flung out dramatically : 

^‘Drink, Freshmen, to the success of Freshman 
Equal Rights; to the defeat of the Sophomores, to 
the chagrin of Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr. ! 
Drink to the Tenth of October, when we shall tri- 
umph! I give you the toast — ‘To the Day!' " 


CHAPTER VII 

THE TENTH OF OCTOBER 

T HAVILAND hicks, JR., at 7.30 p.m. 

• on the fatal tenth of October, his mosquito- 
like structure enshrouded in a gorgeously-hued 
bathrobe, sat luxuriously ensconced in an easy 
chair near the window of his cozy room. His feet 
thrust gracefully atop of the radiator, he was read- 
ing, with whole-souled pleasure, Mark Twain’s 
chronicle of joyous boyhood, “Tom Sawyer.” 

The blithesome youth had propped the volume be- 
fore him, so that his perusal of it would not inter- 
fere with the strumming of his beloved banjo, and 
occasional bursts of song whenever he felt so in- 
spired, which was all too frequently for the long- 
suffering campus. 

“ ’Tis the tenth of October, Theophilus,” mur- 
mured the serene Hicks. “ ‘The Day !’ as Roddy 
Perkins dramatically calls it! Promptly at eight 

79 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


o’clock — it is thusly advertised — Bannister will suf- 
fer a stroke of paralysis, because of the sledge-ham- 
mer blow the Freshmen shall strike for equal 
rights!” 

Theophilus Opperdyke, Hicks’ faithful friend, 
who was standing by the window, gazing through 
his big-rimmed spectacles across the brightly lighted 
Quadrangle at Creighton Hall, turned to peer owl- 
ishly at his happy-go-lucky comrade. The timorous 
little grind, who was terrified by his fixed belief 
that the Napoleonic Roddy intended to do some 
heinous deed, wondered at his sunny companion’s 
serenity. 

‘‘Won’t you try to — to stop him, Hicks?” quav- 
ered Theophilus, his spectacles dropping from his 
nose in his nervous alarm. “Are you going to let 
him do — whatever it is?” 

“Well, it’s Roddy’s next move in this checker- 
game of the campus,” responded the undisturbed 
second-year chieftain. “For I blocked his last one! 
Seriously, Theophilus, I’ve racked my infinitesimal 
brains ever since you made me see a dim light, but 
no definite idea for quelling those Freshmen per- 
manently has torpedoed my mind. That is what I 
get for thinking; hereafter. I’ll not bother. I’ll just 
be my natural self, and await an inspiration.” 

In the week that had passed since Hicks, with 
Theophilus and Jack Merritt, had heard James 


8o 


THE TENTH OF OCTOBER 


Roderick Perkins propose the toast, “To the Day !” 
the brilliant Freshman leader had cleverly cam- 
paigned to arouse campus interest in his next move. 
Placards reading : 

THE DAY— OCTOBER lo! 

had been posted on the college buildings, the trees 
of the campus, and on the gymnasium bulletin- 
board; others, in red letters, announced: 

ON OCTOBER lo— AT 8 P.M.— WE SHALL STRIKE! 
FRESHMAN EMANCIPATION DAY— OCTOBER lo ! 

and 

REMEMBER THE DAY AND THE HOUR— 
OCTOBER 10—8 P.M. ! 

Evidently, the strategic Roddy was a firm believer 
in the modern adage of big business — “It pays to 
advertise !” However, recalling the monster votes- 
for-Freshmen mass meeting, the hilarious upper- 
classmen were confident of some even more sensa- 
tional episode, and now, with the time at hand, 
intense excitement reigned in the dormitories that 
formed the Quadrangle. 

Until a few minutes before, a large, red-painted 
sign had adorned the windows of the Freshman 
Equal Suffrage League Headquarters, across the 
Quadrangle, in Creighton, announcing: 

NOTICE!!! WATCH THESE WINDOWS 
PROMPTLY AT 8 P.M. TO-NIGHT! 


8i 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Now, however, the poster had disappeared, and the 
room of Roddy Perkins was dark, but a white sheet, 
stretched taut by ropes from its four corners, 
gleamed white before the windows, which were com- 
pletely hidden. 

‘‘Creighton Hall resembled the front of a movie 
show,’’ grinned the irrepressible Hicks, “on the 
night of the votes-for-Freshmen meeting; now, I 
suppose, Roddy intends to give us moving pictures, 
showing why the Freshmen should be given the 
Vote!” 

After following the adventurous Tom Sawyer 
through a few more thrilling pages, T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., arose, twanged a few resounding chords, 
and beamed on the agitated Theophilus. 

“I’ve just got to sing, old man,” he informed his 
companion. “I feel it coming on. Perhaps Roddy 
Perkins, hearing my mellifluous voice, will realize 
that I am not in a state of nervous prostration from 
anticipating his grand climax tonight. A truly 
rural ballad, entitled, ‘I Love for to Live in the 
Country.’ ” 

After a few false starts, the care-free minstrel 
struck the proper pitch and chanted lustily: 

“Oh, I love for to live in the country — 

An’ I love for to live on the farm I 
I love for to rise at six a.m. — 

Oh, a country life has a charm ! 


82 


THE TENTH OF OCTOBER 


I love for to wander in the garden — 

Down by the old haystack, 

Where the pretty little chickens go ‘Kic- 
kack-kackle,^ 

An’ the little ducks go ‘Quack-quack !’ ” 

At the end of this extremely rustic ballad, the 
tuneful Hicks, hearing an ominous silence, glanced 
up quickly. He saw, to his dismay, big Butch Brew- 
ster, Pudge Langdon, Beef McNaughton, Ichabod, 
and Captain Jack Merritt blotting out the doorway. 
These football gladiators, having come up from 
Coach Corridan’s chalk-talk in the Mathematics 
classroom, arrived just in time to hark the youthful 
Caruso. 

Hicks, a firm believer in safety first, stowed his 
precious banjo in the closet and dived head first 
under the davenport, whence he was retrieved by the 
wrathy Butch, who reversed the motion and dragged 
out the toothpick Sophomore by the feet. 

^Tt is now five minutes of eight,’' the Herculean 
fullback arraigned his irrepressible comrade sternly, 
^^and the glory-thirsty Roddy Perkins is about to 
execute some sensational coup against ’19! Here 
you loaf, you inanimate, mentally deficient, irrespon- 
sible microbe. Why don’t you do something, instead 
of torturing the campus with your insane efforts to 
sing ?” 

‘‘Hicks, you accident on its way somewhere to 

83 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


happen/’ raged the husky Beef McNaughton, ‘‘lis- 
ten to the upper-classmen! They are cheering for 
Roddy — they know he can do things, he has a brain, 
while you 

From the windows of Bannister and Nordyke, 
where the Seniors and Juniors had gathered to 
watch the white screen across the Quadrangle, 
sounded gleeful voices : 

“Say, Roddy, hurry up and start the show!’' 

“Look at the Freshman Moving Picture halL 
What shall we call it?” 

“Call it ‘The Bedlam’ ! Listen to the noise over 
there!” 

“Is T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., going to censor 
Roddy’s films?” 

“ ’Rah for the Freshman movies — Roddy Per- 
kins, Manager !” 

Some jocund Junior, with a big megaphone, imi- 
tated a side-show “barker” with great effect, to his 
hearers’ delight. 

“This way, everybody, to the Big Show! Per- 
formance starts promptly at eight o’clock ! See the 
sensational, thrilling, stupendous drama of college 
life in three reels, entitled ‘Subduing the Sophs’ ! 
Mr. James Roderick Perkins in the leading role — 
Mr. Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., at one time a 
star, in a minor part! This way ” 

Butch Brewster seized his splinter-like class lead- 


84 


THE TENTH OF OCTOBER 


er in a firm grip, bore him over to the window, and 
made him heed the humorous remarks of the hilari- 
ous upper-classmen, while little Theophilus Opper- 
dyke, feeling that his friend was in disgrace, trem- 
bled violently. 



“ ‘ You are a back number, Hicks ! ’ stormed his behemoth 
companion.” 


“You are a back number, Hicks!” stormed his be- 
hemoth companion. “Hear what they say — ‘Hicks, 
at one time a star, in a minor parti’ Roddy occu- 
pies the center of the stage, he is the Man of the 
Hour, while you ” 

“Thanks for them kind words, friend Butch!” 
chirped the festive Hicks, who seemed utterly in- 
capable of serious thought at this crisis. “I may be 


7 


8S 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


a back number, old man, but / am not out of print, 
and a revised edition is likely to be published at any 
time. However ’’ 

At that instant there came a startling interrup- 
tion; a sound that had been expected, nevertheless, 
shocked Hicks and his excited comrades into an 
awed stillness, while the joyous upper-classmen 
lapsed into a tense silence; the chimes of the ’02 
clock in the library tower struck the hour of eight. 

Roddy Perkins, Manager of the Show, started 
his performance promptly at the hour announced. 
As the last silvery stroke died away, it seemed that 
the foghorn voice of the red-haired Freshman leader, 
magnified by a monster megaphone, roared into the 
Quadrangle : 

‘‘Ready, Freshmen — altogether now! One, Two, 
Three! GoT’ 

Armed with megaphones, the entire Freshman 
class, numbering almost a hundred leather-lunged 
youths, who had filled the windows of the rooms on 
the Quadrangle side of Creighton Hall, committed 
the unheard-of defiance of giving a class yell. Loud 
and snappy, it echoed : 

‘‘Co-ree ! Co-ri ! Co-ro ! Co-room ! 

Co-rickety-rackety-rickety-boom ! 

Hooray ! Hooray ! Sis ! Boom ! Bah ! 

Freshmen ! Freshmen ! ’Rah ! ’Rah ! ’Rah !” 

There was a stunned silence in the other dormi- 

86 


THE TENTH OF OCTOBER 


tories — the turbulent Freshmen had broken all pre- 
cedent, for the first-year class was not allowed to 
have a yell. As the shattered fragments of the an- 
cient Bannister tradition fell into the Quadrangle, a 
brilliant circle of light illuminated the sheet stretched 
before the windows of the Freshman Equal Suffrage 
League Headquarters. 

Then in big red and black letters, like the an- 
nouncements of coming photo-plays flashed on the 
screen in a moving-picture show, there appeared on 
the sheet: 

NO ! This is not a Moving Picture Show ! The Ma- 
chine Used is a PROJECTOSCOPE — postcards, letters, 
photographs, and newspaper illustrations, can be magnified 
several times ! Sold by Perkins and Patterson, No. — 
Chestnut Street, Philadelphia ! Bannister College agent, 
James Roderick Perkins, Room 150 Creighton Hall ! 

Howls of derision from the interested spectators 
greeted this slide. The energetic Roddy was loudly 
advised not to turn the Freshman Suffrage campaign 
into an Advertising Bureau ! Some disappointment 
was registered when it was learned that the Fresh- 
men possessed, not a moving-picture machine, but an 
improved magic lantern — magnifying and throwing 
on the sheet propaganda that otherwise would have 
been scattered abroad by Roddy’s foghorn voice. 

The next slide, prepared by an artist’s hand, left 
the watchers in no doubt as to the purpose of the 

87 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


free Exhibition with the Perkins-Patterson Projec- 
toscope, for it read: 

VOTES FOR FRESHMEN! This SILENT CAM- 
PAIGN Is Executed by the Publicity Bureau of The 
Freshman Equal Suffrage League ! Remember Our 
Motto— LIBERTY— FRATERNITY— EQUALITY! 

Followed a delay, during which the delighted 
upper-classmen jeered the undemonstrative Sopho- 
mores, and T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., was loudly called 
upon to express his opinion of the latest Roddy Per- 
kins stunt. That young politician, the Freshman 
leader, waited just long enough to get the collegians 
excited to the fever-heat of curiosity, and then he 
launched his ‘‘silent campaign.’’ 

There appeared on the screen a full page of type- 
written manuscript, which, magnified several times 
above natural size by the projectoscope, could dis- 
tinctly be made out from every dormitory except 
Creighton Hall. With a lavish use of red and blue 
inks, and generous capitalization, the document pre- 
sented an impressive appearance, and an interested 
silence greeted its coming on the sheet. 

“Aha!” breathed the enlightened Hicks, gazing 
from his window. “Now, Theophilus, the dark plot 
unfolds. I know what use was made of Jerry’s 
typewriter that night we heard Roddy’s toast !” 

The first document remained on the screen long 
enough for anyone to read it over and over. 


88 


THE TENTH OF r)^TOBER 

Correct as to English, spelling, and punctuation, but 
a trifle erratic as to letter alignment, thanks to 
Jerry's battered typewriter, it announced : 

NOTICE!!! TO SOPHOMORES AND UPPER- 
CLASSMEN! AN EXPLANATION!!! The Fresh- 
man Equal Suffrage League — backed by the entire Fresh- 
man Class o*f Bannister College — realizes that its Noisy 
Votes for Freshmen mass meeting was futile, that it 
served no other purpose than to entertain the upper- 
classmen ! 

We see clearly that nothing is gained by riot and insur- 
rection — we have found a way to strike a most DEADLY 
BLOW without a sound! TONIGHT we shall not en- 
tertain ! We shall be brief, but our Exhibition shall 
PARALYZE the campus! 

We have vainly tried to secure equal rights and the 
vote! We have been laughed at, jeered, and ridiculed! 
The upper-classmen have refused to take our cause seri- 
ously ! THEREFORE, we are forced to take this drastic 
and extreme measure! 

READ THIS CAREFULLY! By foolish tradition 
and unjust campus law, the Freshman Class at Bannister 
has always been forced to live an isolated existence ! It 
has never been allowed any rights or privileges with 
upper-classmen ! We pay Athletic Association dues, and 
have no representative on the Advisory Board — ^we pay 
Literary Society dues, and cannot be eligible to the Ora- 
torical Contests while Freshmen ! 

TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION IS 
TYRANNY ! It is against the principles of American 
Freedom, for which our illustrious forefathers once 
fought, bled, and died! 

HENCE— Unless we are granted— WITHIN ONE 
WEEK — equal rights and the vote, we shall henceforth 

89 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


refuse to enter, in any respect, into Bannister life until 
we are Sophomores ! So far as is humanly possible, we 
shall exist as at a separate institution! 

An excited hum of voices buzzed in Smithson, 
Nordyke, and Bannister. Roddy’s clever idea in 
using the projectoscope, thus holding his spectators’ 
interest and not exposing himself to the Hicks’ Fir- 
Squad, was loudly admired. So far, nothing that 
threatened to demoralize the campus had been made 
manifest, and the Sophomores felt relieved, while 
the upper-classmen jeered at the Freshmen for their 
ominous prediction. 

Then, like a bombshell exploding, came the Fresh- 
man Ultimatum, which fully lived up to its advance 
notices, and utterly paralyzed the college by its 
originality and its terrible effect. Upon the screen 
showed another typewritten page, magnified until 
the letters stood out clearly, emblazoned before the 
astonished gaze of the collegians. 

BULLETIN NO. 2! In deep regret at the necessity 
for such a move, and with enmity toward none^ we call 
attention to the following: 

WE, THE UNDERSIGNED— Members of the Class 
of 1920, Bannister College, in profound sorrow that we 
are shut out from sharing equal rights and privileges 
with upper-classmen, and regretful that we cannot secure 
equal suffrage and the vote, hereby decide to abide by 
Tradition, and to live our Freshman year — alone ! 

Therefore — since we cannot have all or a majority of 
the rights extended to upper-classmen, we respectfully 


90 


THE TENTH OF OCTOBER 


resign those few allowed us ! Surely, there can be no 
wrong in our giving up the following privileges, for we 
are but submitting to campus law ! 

BE IT RESOLVED — First: Every member of 1920 
hereby — over his signature hereto appended — does pledge 
himself not to pay to the Athletic Association the $5.00 
required of each collegian, including Freshmen! We 
number a hundred students — 100 X 5 = $500 dead loss to 
the Athletic Association, by virtue of our giving up this 
‘Tight r 

Second — Every Freshman hereby pledges himself not 
to pay his Literary Society dues of $3.00 per annum, and 
to withdraw from said society until he is a Sophomore, 
and thus entitled to full rights ! 

Third — Every Freshman hereby agrees to give up the 
right to make the Bannister athletic teams in his first 
year — also, he pledges himself not to try for any scrub 
team whatsoever, and further — to practice or play on no 
team not entirely composed of Freshmen 1 This resolu- 
tion should vastly please the upper-classmen, as it is made 
to prevent Freshmen from intruding upon their athletic 
activities 1 

These resolutions go into effect — ONE WEEK FROM 
TONIGHT — unless, before that time, the Class o*f 1920 
shall be granted EQUAL RIGHTS in every respect with 
all upper-classmen, and the VOTE in student affairs I 
Unless our demands are met — we shall abandon our Cru- 
sade, but — we shall simply resign all rights that we hold 
equally with the other classes, for the remainder o*f our 
Freshman year I 

(Signed) James Roderick Perkins, 

Chairman, 

Then came several pages of names, in various 
styles of handwriting, the signatures of every 


91 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Freshman at Bannister. Following which a lurid 
slide was shown : 

THINK IT OVER— YOU HAVE ONE WEEK! Do 
you realize the CONSEQUENCES if we Freshmen give 
up the three privileges allowed us? 

With rare strategy, the brilliant Roddy Perkins 
had planned this terrific blow. At first glance, it 
seemed meek submission on the part of the erstwhile 
rampant Freshmen; if they failed to get the Vote 
and Equal Rights, they would abandon their Cam- 
paign and resign the few privileges they now shared 
equally with upper-classmen. Surely, this would be 
a most commendable bowing to the inevitable. 

But, this is why the Machiavellian Roddy cheer- 
fully resigned the only equal rights his class pos- 
sessed. First, the ‘‘right” of each Freshman to 
pay five dollars dues to the Athletic Association 
meant five hundred dollars in its treasury, paying a 
great part of the year’s athletic expenses. With- 
out that amount, the eleven would be forced to can- 
cel important games, for lack of funds. The same 
paralyzing effect would be felt by the track, basket- 
ball, and baseball teams, while in similar fashion, the 
college Literary Societies would sadly miss the three 
hundred Freshman dollars. 

The Bannister football eleven had three Fresh- 
men in its line-up, all fast, brilliant players who 
could not be replaced. Besides several first team sub- 


02 


THE TENTH OF OCTOBER 


stitutes, the first-year class supplied practically the 
entire scrub team. Without a strong second-string 
for the scrimmages, the Gold and Green could not 
develop, and without Freshmen, a fast second team 
could not be found. 

So, if the Freshmen resigned their ‘Vight’’ to 
make Bannister first teams, or to play on the scrubs, 
the splendid gridiron machine assembled by Coach 
Corridan would be hopelessly crippled. 

‘‘REMEMBER,’’ was flashed on the screen, as 
the stunned collegians waited, in absolute silence, 
“IF YOU THINK THIS BLOW WILL PARA- 
LYZE BANNISTER ATHLETICS— BEY ORE 
A WEEK, GIVE US EQUAL RIGHTS! GOOD 
NIGHTr 

There was no tumultuous applause this time, as 
when Roddy had launched his votes-for-Freshmen ! 
mass meeting. Instead, when the sheet was hauled 
in, windows in Smithson, Nordyke, and Bannister 
closed quietly; the Freshman blow had actually 
paralyzed the student body. As yet, the collegians 
could hardly realize the tremendous evil that would 
result, much less act to quell the Freshmen. 

Roddy Perkins had struck his sledge-hammer 
blow by means of his extremely original silent cam- 
paign ; without a word being spoken. The Day — 
October the tenth — would long be remembered at 
old Bannister. 


93 


CHAPTER VIII 

TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 

A mong the historical instances on record of 
sublime indifference to imminent peril may 
be chronicled Mr. Nero’s fiddling while Rome 
burned, the “Boy Who Stood on the Burning 
Deck,” the humorous attitude the American public 
invariably assumes after reading a United States 
Weather Bureau storm forecast, and the outrage- 
ous behavior of Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., at 
the conclusion of Roddy Perkins’ projectoscope ex- 
hibit. 

When Jack Merritt, Butch Brewster, Beef 
McNaughton, Pudge Langdon, the elongated Icha- 
bod, the timorous little Theophilus Opperdyke 
turned away from the windows, fully expecting to 
find Hicks reduced to the general proportions of a 
pancake by Roddy’s blow, they beheld a most start- 
ling spectacle. 


94 


TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 


With the shadow of Tragedy hovering over the 
campus, the college quivering from the shock of a 
cataclysm, Tradition tottering on its ancient throne, 
and ruinous chaos threatening his alma mater, T. 
Haviland Hicks, Jr., President of the Class of 1919, 
laughed. 

The hilarious Hicks went into paroxysms. He 
hurled his toothpick anatomy on the davenport, 
where he rolled and tossed like a storm-tortured 
ship. He chuckled, gurgled, snorted, and shrieked; 
going from one convulsion to another without inter- 
mission. At last, breathless from laughter, he gazed 
up at his dazed comrades, and straightway hurried 
off into more spasms of mirth, which finally sub- 
sided into explosive chuckles, as he became weak. 

“Of course,” grated the sorely puzzled Butch 
Brewster, “it’s all a terribly funny joke, Hicks. 
This notoriety-seeking Roddy Perkins has demoral- 
ized the campus, killed athletics at Bannister, robbed 
the Gold and Green of the State football champion- 
ship this season, and scrambled our whole student 
existence, but we should worry, so long as you are 
as happy as though you had brains !” 

“I can’t help it; Butch,” exploded the butterfly 
Sophomore, whose conduct at such an intensely 
melancholy moment was indeed reprehensible in the 
extreme. “Just remember how the upper-classmen 
cheered Roddy when he started his picture-show. 


95 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


how they hailed with glee his ‘putting one over’ on 
Hicks and the Sophomores. And now, after he 
has exploded his bombshell in their dorms, too — 
What a violent contrast! Oh, it’s just too funny, 
fellows — pardon my unseemly laughter.” 

“You scatterbrained wretch!” stormed Beef Mc- 
Naughton, as the incorrigible Hicks departed into 
another paroxysm of mirth. “We might as well 
bombard armor-plate with a popgun as to try and 
force any sense into that head of yours. Instead of 
striving to save your alma mater in such a terrible 
crisis, you act like a lunatic! We ought to give 


There sounded the tread of a marching host in the 
corridor outside, the door opened suddenly, and an 
Indignation Committee entered Hicks’ cozy quar- 
ters. It was composed of Bannister’s most repre- 
sentative students, managers and captains of the 
athletic teams, the celebrated editorial staff of the 
Bannister Weekly, presidents of the Literary So- 
cieties, and innumerable collegians intensely loyal 
to their alma mater. 

Entered such luminaries of the campus as Bull 
Tucker, center-rush and winner of the Bates All- 
Round Athlete’s Medal, Doc MacGruder, a philo- 
sophical Senior of string-bean proportions. Bob Hal- 
stead, track captain and star sprinter, Methuselah 
Fishpaw, the rotund Business Manager of the Week- 

96 


TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 


ly, Shakespeare Sawtelle, editor-in-chief, and Poler 
Starr, who wrote terrific editorials for the Weekly, 
and read them! 

There were upper-classmen who for two or three 
seasons had toiled on the second football string, en- 
during the muscle-torturing scrimmages against the 
fast regulars, plodding out on Bannister Field, day 
after day, to sweat and be battered around for the 
glory of their college. There were members of the 
track squad, who had trained faithfully for two 
years, sacrificing, taking the daily grind on the cin- 
der-path, and baseball athletes, who, in their Junior 
and Senior years, were to reap their reward by 
playing on the Gold and Green nine. 

These collegians had given their time and effort 
to their alma mater; they had worked and waited. 
Cheerfully they had reported for practice every day 
in season, and by their training had denied them- 
selves many pleasures that would hurt their con- 
dition. And now, when their years of scrub service 
were ended, and they were regulars, must they stand 
helpless and see Bannister’s athletic life killed by 
the Napoleonic ambition of one Freshman? 

Big Bull Tucker, who was also the Y. M. C. A. 
president, and whose voice was as earth-shaking as 
that of the “Bull of Bashan,” gazed at the still 
chuckling T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., shifted his huge 
bulk from one foot to the other awkwardly, drew a 


97 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

deep breath, and plunged ahead as though in a 
furious scrimmage. 

‘‘Hicks, old man,’’ he roared, though it was his 
natural voice, “we fellows have talked this awful 
affair over, and we decided that you can do some- 
thing to help old Bannister! You escaped from the 
hazers last year in a sensational way, when it seemed 
utterly impossible, and, too, you very effectually 
broke up Roddy Perkins’ mass meeting.” 

“Bannister is in a terrible fix,” said Bob Hal- 
stead, a clean-cut, vigorous youth. “Unless some- 
thing is done quickly, fellows, the football eleven 
will be ruined. We ought to rush over to Creighton 
and clean up Roddy and his foolish Freshmen, but 
that would be hazing.” 

The sunny Hicks, who had been gazing at the 
pages of “Tom Sawyer,” grinned cheerfully at the 
wrought-up collegians, to the vast indignation of 
Butch Brewster. To do the blithesome Sophomore 
justice, however, it must be confessed that he had 
cause for mirth. He had talked earnestly with these 
very upper-classmen, urging on them the fact that 
danger to Bannister threatened as a result of the 
Freshman riot, and they had laughed at him. Now, 
when the appalled Juniors and Seniors came to him 
for aid in this appalling crisis, it was only natural 
that the festive Hicks should behold the exquisite 
humor of the situation. 


98 


TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 


‘‘But, Hicks,’’ stammered Bill Cavanaugh, mana- 
ger of the football eleven, bewildered by the Cheshire 
cat grin, “have you no college spirit? Don’t you 
realize what a fearful blow this is to the team, to old 
Bannister ? Why, we lose Roddy Perkins from end. 
Biff Pemberton from halfback, and Hefty Hollings- 
worth from guard ; besides, we simply can't get to- 
gether any scrub team without Freshmen, and we 
won’t have the funds tO' pay traveling expenses.” 

“Have you absolutely no love for the Gold and 
Green ?” demanded Babe McCabe wrathf ully, “that 
you won’t help us to ” 

Laying “Tom Sawyer” aside, with all his old 
self-assured braggadocio, which, strange to say, 
while it had always aroused the resentment of Butch 
Brewster, was now extremely welcome to that erst- 
while despairing behemoth, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., 
spoke breezily: 

“Oh, just leave it to me, fellows. I’ll go inter- 
view Roddy now, and try to persuade him to aban- 
don this wild campaign; failing in that, I shall just 
wait for an inspiration that will render our red- 
haired trouble-maker, our Castro of the campus, 
perfectly powerless.” 

With a tremendously important pose, entirely as- 
sumed, the toothpick Sophomore strode across the 
room on his way to interview the redoubtable 
Roddy. He paused for a second in the doorway 


99 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


to grin cheerily at the upper-classmen, who felt as 
though Brooklyn Bridge had been removed from 
their minds, now that Hicks had at last been aroused 
to definite action. 

‘‘It is a mighty crisis,’’ announced Hicks debo- 
narily. “But now that / have laid aside my multi- 
farious duties for the sake of my beloved alma 
mater, you may rest assured that Roddy will be 
squelched. Tomorrow, if he has not heeded my 
merciless logic, I shall act! If you want me to solve 
this problem for good and all when I once start, 
you fellows imitate the “Light Brigade” when I give 
orders, and don’t stop to reason why!” 

When the irrepressible Hicks had departed on his 
mission, that of convincing the glory-seeking Roddy 
of how futile would be his attempt to tilt, a la Don 
Quixote at Tradition, big Butch Brewster, who 
knew the seemingly frivolous youth better than any- 
one else at Bannister, actually smiled. 

“Fellows,” he announced earnestly, “now that 
Hicks is awake, I have a hunch that he will save 
us; it’s not his nature to let a Freshman outwit him. 
Just let him get that so-called and much-needed ‘in- 
spiration’ of his, and Roddy Perkins will retire to 
an extreme rear seat.” 

The heedless Hicks, as he clattered downstairs, 
had no more definite idea of what he was going to 
do than a South Sea Islander would have of lec- 


lOO 


TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 


turing on ‘‘Life at the North Pole/’ Unlike the 
immortal Hamlet, who inquired if it were better 
“to take up arms against a sea of troubles, and by 
opposing, end them,” the care-free youth never hesi- 
tated on the shore of such a sea, but always plunged 
headlong into it, blithely trusting his invariable luck 
to do the rest. 

However, it must be confessed that while Hicks 
usually made wonderously rash promises with- 
out the remotest plan in mind, in this affair of the 
turbulent Freshmen he had, in the rear recesses of 
his brain, the vague shadow of a marvelous scheme, 
inspired by the clarified logic of little Theophilus 
Opperdyke. Still, as the butterfiy Sophomore had 
observed, racking his brains to give this dim con- 
ception definite form seemed futile, so, perforce, he 
abandoned himself to his usual method, cheerfully 
waiting for Fortune to smile on him with an in- 
spiration. 

As he sauntered nonchalantly across the brightly 
lighted Quadrangle, he grinned to himself, unlike 
that night when the Hicks’ Personally Conducted 
Tour had started across to invade Creighton Hall, 
after the outburst of Freshman Equal Rights post- 
ers, the upper-classmen failed to hail him with jeers 
and humorous remarks. A few exuberant Fresh- 
men, however, perceived him from their windows,, 
and commented rather personally on his coming: 

8 loi 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


“Oh, joy, here comes T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., to 
see us, fellows!’’ 



‘“Oh, joy, here comes T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., to 
see us, fellows!’’’ 


“He vrill slap Roddy on the wrist and say, 
‘Naughty ! Naughty !’ ” 

“Isn’t he just the bravest thing, all by himself, 
too!” 


102 


TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 


“Freshmen, what have we did to deserve this 
mighty honor?” 

Entering the Freshman dormitory, and climbing 
the stairs to the third floor, the lath-like Hicks 
was struck with the unusual order that prevailed; 
evidently, having abandoned their tumultuous cam- 
paign for a silent but deadly one, the first-year 
students had been commanded by the astute Roddy 
to keep quiet. Having paralyzed the college, and 
made it absolutely necessary for the upper-classmen 
to act at once in self-defense, or else capitulate, they 
could afford the unaccustomed strain of good be- 
havior for a brief time. 

Arriving at Room 150, Zreighton Hall, T. Havi- 
land Hicks, Jr., grinned again; on the door of the 
highly original Roddy’s room were placards : 

Headquarters of the Freshman Equal Suffrage League 
— Office of James Roderick Perkins — Chairman of 1920 — 
Equal Rights Campaign — and League Publicity Bureau! 
DON’T BE A KNOCKER— KICK OPEN THE DOOR 
AND COME IN! 

About to obey this characteristic sign, the amused 
Hicks had started to kick the door open, after the 
prevailing Bannister fashion, when he hesitated; 
though not wishing to eavesdrop, he paused for 
a moment, most naturally, hearing his name spoken 
by the resourceful Roddy Perkins. 

“Listen, Mr. Parmalee,” said the Freshman leader 


103 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


earnestly. ‘‘When I came to Bannister, all I heard 
was ‘Hicks! Hicks!' I was told how he sensation- 
ally escaped from the hazers last year, of how he led 
his class to victory in the class rush, and other stunts. 
Back at Bingham Prep, I was an acknowledged 
leader. I planned and executed hig enterprises. 
Why, I originated a strike; all the boys refused to 
attend recitations until our demands were granted; 
only my Dad telegraphed, ‘Call strike off imme- 
diately or come home in factory at six per !' so I lost. 

“Well, I determined to pull off something stupen- 
dous at Bannister to eclipse Hicks' record; some- 
thing original, undreamed of. Reading of the Eng- 
lish suffragettes inspired me, and when I learned we 
could not be hazed, I plotted my master-stroke, I 
started my Freshman Equal Rights Crusade, and 
while I confess I realized from the start that its 
principles are wrong. I'll never quit until I am 
forced to give up " 

“Then you won't stop this ridiculous project?" 
spoke Parson Parmalee, the Senior president, a 
grave, kindly student, whose love for old Bannister 
had sent him over to wrestle argumentatively with 
the recalcitrant Roddy. “I'm sorry, Roddy, for you 
have the making of a splendid college man, only 
at present your insane thirst for power, for the 
plaudits of the mob, blinds your vision." 

“See here," Roddy spoke tensely. “Here is the 


104 


TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 


book I have read over and over. ‘The Life of Na- 
poleon Bonaparte’ ! He is my hero, Mr. Parmalee ; 
he wasn’t afraid of big things, and once he dreamed, 
he fought tO' the finish for his ambition. Do you 
believe Napoleon would have called off such a cam- 
paign as this, right or wrong, until he just could not 
achieve his purpose? 

‘T can’t, I won’t turn back !” Roddy’s voice was 
determined. “Even if I did start this thing just for 
a sensation, I will fight on now that Hicks checked 
me once, now that I’ve given my ultimatum. I’m 
not a quitter. When I take a grip on anything, I 
hang on like a bulldog. It isn’t within my power 
to let go. Shake me off this thing, if you can, and 
I’ll honestly be glad, but I must stick to the end. 
Right or wrong, now that I’ve launched my big 
exploit. I’ll stay with it until ” 

Hicks waited to hear no more ; if “Parson” Par- 
malee, a friedly, serious Senior whose influence for 
good was powerful, could not remove the bulldog 
Roddy from his project, the Sophomore leader 
knew that nothing he could say would prevail. He 
understood that the 1917 president had shown the 
ambitious Freshman how his votes-for-Freshmen 
idea was grievously wrong, but because of Roddy’s 
unconquerable nature, he would continue to hurl his 
wonderful power and personality behind it until he 
was subdued. 


105 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

Crossing the Quadrangle slowly, Hicks thought 
earnestly ; he realized now, as, indeed, he had when 
the blow was struck, that Bannister College, his 
alma mater, faced a terrible crisis. The seeming- 
ly frivolous youth possessed a nature far deeper 
than his friends knew. He was capable of nobler 
emotions, of a greater love for Bannister, than even 
his comrade. Butch Brewster, ever suspected. 

He admired Roddy Perkins immensely, and he 
foresaw that the athletic, clean-spirited youth, once 
his vision became clear, once he felt within him a 
love for his alma mater that swayed all other am- 
bitions, would, as “Parson'' Parmalee said, “make a 
splendid college man." At present, the Titian-haired 
Roddy's indomitable spirit, his desire to achieve big 
enterprises, his tenacious way of sticking to the fin- 
ish, once he started, with his Napoleonic dreams 
of campus conquest, handicapped him, and wrought 
inestimable harm to his college. 

“Say, he's a wonder!" breathed Hicks admiring- 
ly, as he reflected on this rival, who had conceived 
the Freshman Equal Rights movement, who com- 
pletely dominated his class, as some political boss, 
whose brain had shown him a way to paralyze Ban- 
nister. “If we can only hold his tremendous en- 
ergy in check for his Freshman year, till he gets 
real college spirit, what a power for good he will 
be on the campus." 

io6 


TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 


Roddy Perkins, with his unquenchable ambitions, 
his dreams of empire, his lust for power, full of a 
fever to sway stupendous projects, was the stuff of 
which real men are made; his college course might 
form his character for good or evil. That tremen- 
dous energy, directed aright, would make him a 
splendid statesman, a master-builder ; misguided, he 
would become a captain of frenzied finance, a ma- 
nipulator of millions. 

Hicks, on the steps of Smithson, was smitten with 
the tragic truth that his speedy round trip left him 
where he had started, both literally and figuratively. 
Despite his confident assurances to his classmates, 
the perturbed Bull Tucker, and the aroused upper- 
classmen, he had as yet decided on no line of action, 
and 

‘T can’t pursue a 'watchful waiting’ policy now,” 
he grinned, remembering Butch Brewster’s accusa- 
tion of him once. "Something must be done, and 
at once, or Bannister’s hopes of the football cham- 
pionship go glimmering. Why can’t my much- 
needed inspiration come to me ” 

Back in his room, deserted now, for the excited 
collegians had gone in quest of Coach Corridan to 
tell him the joyous news that his team was crippled, 
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., reclined in the easy chair, 
and reached for "Tom Sawyer.” If he could not 
capture an inspiration by pondering seriously, he 


107 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Avould forget the crisis, and perhaps one would flash 
on him, which, after all, is the only correct method 
of being inspired. 

The sunny Sophomore was reading where the 
strange boy, elegantly dressed, comes to the shabby 
little village of St. Petersburg, and is hailed by that 
lovable character, Tom Sawyer. Hicks grinned as 
he read aloud the passage where, in Mark Twain’s 
inimitable humor, is chronicled how the ragged T om 
and the newcomer gradually work themselves up 
to the pitch of battle, and he came to these sentences : 

— After struggling till both were hot and flushed, each 
relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said: 

‘'You're a coward and a pup! I’ll tell my big brother 
on you, and he can thrash you with his little finger, and 
I’ll make him do it, too 1” 

“What do I care for your big brother? I’ve got a 
brother, that’s bigger than he is, and what’s more, he can 
throw him over the fence, tool” (Both brothers were 
imaginary.) 

For a few seconds T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., sat in 
silence gazing at the printed page; then he looked 
across the Quadrangle at the painted sign on Roddy 
Perkins’ windows— ^‘LIBERTY— FRATERNITY 
EQUALITY!” Like a great searchlight turned 
suddenly on a dark expanse, a mighty illumination 
flashed on the shadow-like Sophomore’s darkened 
intellect, and he forthwith let out a whoop that would 
have shocked a Comanche Indian. 


io8 


TOM SAWYER ASSISTS HICKS 


^‘Fraternity — brotherhood — -big brotherhood” he 
murmured happily. “Oh, my inspiration has come 
at last. James Roderick Perkins, you are conquered, 
if my diplomatic strategy can persuade dear old 
Prexy to give my plan his sanction! Tom Sawyer 
— thou gladsome mortal — thanks ! Thou hast verily 
scored an assist — ‘Sawyer-to-Hicks-to-Prexy’ — and 
Roddy will be put out before he reaches the home- 
plate.'" 


I 


CHAPTER IX 

hicks' counter campaign 

I N the mind of Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., the 
two words “inspiration” and “action” were 
next-door neighbors, with no fence between. Once 
the big idea illuminated his brain, the erstwhile 
happy-go-lucky youth was instantaneously trans- 
formed into a human dynamo, and he proceeded to 
execute his schedule with the speed of the Twentieth 
Century Limited. 

Despite the obvious fact that James Roderick Per- 
kins, with his wonderful personality, his infectious 
grin, and his power to sway his fellows, completely 
dominated the Freshmen, Hicks never for an instant 
doubted that Time would inevitably challenge Rod- 
dy’s rule. That is, as the serious-minded first-year 
collegians came to understand Bannister tradition, 
to love and serve their alma mater — as they thrilled 
with true college spirit — surely many would 


no 


HICKS’ COUNTER CAMPAIGN 


realize that this votes-for-Freshmen campaign was 
wrong. 

Now, however, bewildered by the first weeks of 
college existence, unorganized, without the ability 
to think for themselves, yet instinctively feeling that 
they must coalesce for strength, they were an easily 
excited mass, swayed by, and blindly following the 
ambitious Roddy. 

^‘And the fact is,’’ reflected Hicks, who was think- 
ing along this line, ‘^that before the really earnest 
Freshmen come to realize that their Roddy’s ambi- 
tion blinds him to the campus good, and before they 
desert his standard, the harm will be done. Un- 
less- ” 

Rushing from the room, Hicks again descended 
the stairs of Smithson to the Quadrangle ; this time, 
however, he sprinted across it to Bannister Hall, the 
Senior dormitory, and went up the stairway — three 
steps at a time. He paused in his cyclonic career 
at a door on the third floor corridor — it bore the 
intensely Tennysonic sign : 

EDITORIAL OFFICES OF THE BANNISTER 
WEEKLY— IF YOU ARE A SUBSCRIBER, WHY 
DON’T YOU PAY? IF NOT— THEN SUBSCRIBE 
TODAY! 

Entering the editorial sanctum, deserted at that 
hour, the energetic Hicks literally flung himself into 
a chair, inserted a sheet in the rickety old typewriter 


III 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

that graced a table cluttered with galley proofs, ex- 
changes and manuscripts, and set to work. He 
assaulted the keys with jabbing forefingers, slam- 
ming them with a force that threatened to put the 
machine out of commission, and he paused at inter- 
vals to slap his thigh exultantly and mutter, ‘That’s 
the stuff — ril get ’em with this!” before resuming 
his terrific onslaught. 

Finally, having written, edited and revised for 
half an hour, the industrious Hicks jumped up, 
kicked the chair aside, waved the portentous papers 
frenziedly above his head, and exited from the Ban- 
nister Weekly sanctum with the speed of a tramp 
pursued by a bulldog divorced unexpectedly from its 
chain. 

“Now to find good old Butch!” he exulted, as 
he imperiled his precious life by a most spectacular 
descent of the stairs by the Mono-Rail System, 
Limited. “And I must locate Theophilus, to have 
a statement drawn up for Prexy’s reading. It’s high 
time T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., appeared on the scene, 
for to date, James Roderick Perkins has monopolized 
the stage.” 

Fortune favored the dynamic youth, for in the 
Quadrangle he discovered big Butch Brewster, 
Theophilus Opperdyke and the skyscraper Ichabod. 
Having lost track of their sunny comrade, they had 
been wandering disconsolately through the dormi- 


112 


HICKS’ COUNTER CAMPAIGN 


tories in quest of him, for all the world like a trio 
of stray cats. 

“Come on, fellows!” shouted Hicks excitedly, 
setting off at what he firmly believed was a terrific 
pace. “Another Hicks’ Personally Conducted Tour 
is starting 1 I’m on the trail of that Roddy Perkins 
person, and I won’t shed my war-paint till his scalp 
hangs in the ’19 wigwam.” 

“Hooray! That’s the spirit, Hicks!” boomed 
Butch, galloping in the wake of his slim classmate, 
like a rhinoceros pursuing a giraffe, with the bean- 
pole Ichabod, as though wearing the Seven League 
boots, taking gigantic strides, and little Theophilus 
desperately bringing up the rear, and — himself. 
“You are awake at last, and Roddy is due for a head- 
on collision with his Waterloo ! You are harder to 



“They unquestioningly followed the sprinting Hicks 
across the Quadrangle.” 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


arouse than a night-watchman on duty, but at last — 
we’re ofif!” 

Giving a splendid.imitation of the ‘‘Light Brigade,” 
they unquestioningly followed the sprinting Hicks 
across the Quadrangle, out on the campus, and on 
downtown. As the Sophomore leader’s prowess on 
the cinder-path had never caused the famous Ted 
Meredith to shed tears of envy, even Theophilus, 
tightly clutching his spectacles, soon caught up, and 
the expedition proceeded at a less dizzy rate of speed. 

Ten minutes brought them to the printing plant 
of the Courier, a country newspaper, on whose 
presses the Bannister Weekly was misprinted. Into 
the building plunged the impetuous Hicks, waving 
the papers, as a flag, tb his followers. They entered 
the printery, with its stifling atmosphere, and gazed 
at the composing stones, job and cylinder presses, 
the one linotype machine, and the typesetters’ alleys, 
along one wall. 

The editor and owner — Mr. David Howell, a big, 
bearlike man wearing a baggy suit, a wide-brimmed 
hat — and a genial smile was explaining some late 
“copy” to the lone linotyper, who sat humped over 
the keyboard. To this hearty mountain of humanity 
'Strode the indefatigable Hicks, thrusting the papers 
before his twinkling blue eyes. 

“I’d like five hundred of these printed at once, 
Mr. Howell,” he requested cheerfully. “It’s half- 


HICKS’ COUNTER CAMPAIGN 


past nine now, and I’ll want them no later than mid- 
night, because they are urgently needed, and ” 

‘‘Hold on there, young man !” The owner of the 
Courier, whose plant handled job-printing work, 
threw up his hands in self-defense. “Dave Howell 
doesn’t run any night-shift. Tom MacCray here is 
busy setting up the paper, which ought to be on the 
press now, and I’m due at lodge. If it’s a case of 
life and death. I’ll have ’em run off first thing in 
the A.M.” 

Halted in his plan by this unforeseen obstacle, 
Hicks, for the moment, was as much at sea as a 
Cunarder in mid-ocean; he wanted those posters at 
once, but he realized that the printer could not 
deliver them until morning. As he hesitated, for 
this would sadly delay his campaign at a critical 
moment, the bluff mammoth clapped him on the 
shoulder and remarked with a guffaw : 

“Over there’s the type-cases, ‘here’s the composing 
stone, the chases, and the job-press. If you fellows 
knew anything but hollering “Rah ! Rah !” and div- 
ing into escapades, you might put the combination 
together, but I guess none of you even know what 
‘printer’s pie’ is.” 

The skyscraper Ichabod, who had been excitedly 
striving to articulate something, while Editor Howell 
joked with the thoughtful Hicks, his protuberant 
Adam’s apple working ludicrously in his feverish 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


efforts, clutched his festive classmate’s shoulder in 
a vicelike grip and pointed frantically at the job- 
press. 

‘‘I — I — ” he stammered wildly, while Hicks and 
big Butch, two minds with but a single thought, 
saluted the awkward collegian, and responded in a 
most nautical fashion: 

‘'Aye, aye, sir!” 

“I can do it!” shouted the desperate Ichabod. 
“Every summer, Hicks, I work in the Bugle office, 
back in Bedwell Center, Pennsylvania, where I come 
from. I used to be a printer’s ‘devil’ there when 
I was a little tacker. I can set type, make ready 
the form, and feed a job-press. If Mr. Howell 
says so. I’ll set up your poster and run off as many 
as you want.” 

“Go right ahead, boys !” beamed the genial editor 
of the Courier, while Hicks’ countenance assumed a 
most beatific expression of joy. “I’ll charge for 
only what paper you use. So long. Don’t let these 
scapegraces wreck my plant, Tom, and tell them 
anything they want to know.” 

So the elongated Ichabod became for the time 
commander in-chief of the expedition, Hicks most 
cheerfully yielding the leadership to the tall, awk- 
ward youth who had worked “in the Bugle office, 
back in Bedwell Center, Pennsylvania.” That use- 
ful-as-well-as-ornamental Sophomore, who either 


ii6 


HICKS’ COUNTER CAMPAIGN 


talked as jerkily as a local freight making up^ — in 
starts and stops — or else rushed ahead like a through 
express, issued orders faster than a hungry patron 
of a Childs’ restaurant. 

‘"Butch,” he shouted, rushing wildly about the 
place, “put the belt on the fly-wheel and start the 



job-press! Theophilus, you soak a rag in gasoline 
and wash off the plate and ink-rollers. Hicks, come 
over here and tell me what kinds of type you want 

used on this document, and ” 

Little Theophilus, his big-rimmed spectacles awry, 
so happy that he was actually helping his hero, the 

117 


9 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


futile Hicks, who had informed him that his wisdom 
would be needed later, on some document, scrubbed 
away contentedly with an old rag, and peered owi- 
ishly at the laboring Butch. That football star, 
after getting the belt on, filled the ink-fountain, 
accidentally smearing himself and the helplessly in- 
dignant Human Encyclopedia, after which he 
knocked a wrench into the fly-wheel, and nearly 
decapitated the terrified ‘‘boner.’’ 

Hicks was in ecstatic spirits, which, translated 
into English, means that he was a general nuisance. 
That pestersome youth, who seemed to have perused 
some book entitled, “How not to do things,” insisted 
on pursuing a policy of helpful hindering. He 
hovered near Ichabod, in the typesetting alley, to 
that industrious being’s infinite disgust, and in in- 
numerable ways blocked the progress of the work 
he seemed to regard as vastly important. 

He insisted on setting up one paragraph, while 
his bean-pole friend attended to the one before it, 
which effectually complicated matters ; anyhow, 
Ichabod had to disqualify Hicks’ efforts, since the 
cheerful pest’s “stick” of type looked weird and 
disjointed, with a majority of the letters standing 
on their heads, and a horrible irregularity of spaces 
between the words. 

“Hold on to that a second,” requested the busy 
Ichabod, handing the grinning Hicks a stick of 

ii8 


HICKS’ COUNTER CAMPAIGN 


type, while he straightened a galley. The heedless 
youth, turning to watch him, straightway proceeded 
to make '‘pie’' of the stickful, spilling the type on the 
floor. After this offense, the irate printer loudly 
implored Butch to remove the troublesome collegian, 
which the big athlete considerately did — dragging 
Hicks away by the scruff of the neck. 

With Hicks suppressed, the work proceeded 
swiftly, and at half-past eleven, Ichabod having set 
up the copy, given his classmate a proof, "made 
ready” for the press, and run off five hundred copies 
— in short, as Butch observed, having been the 
"whole works” — the exuberant Sophomores were 
ready for the return trip to the campus. With the 
press cleaned up, and the type distributed in the 
case, Ichabod’s toil was ended, and he received 
modestly the noisy plaudits of his admiring com- 
rades. 

"You are a wonder, Ichabod!” exclaimed the 
gladsome Hicks, as the Personally Conducted Tour, 
again headed by its originator, hit the trail campus- 
ward "I’ll decorate you with the Iron Cross, or have 
a Carnegie medal stricken off for your bravery — 
you saved me, noble hero!” 

When the four collegians, who resembled an 
aggregation of coal-heavers and chimney-sweeps 
just off duty, entered the Quadrangle once more, 
it occurred to the grimy Butch for the first time 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


that Hicks’ actions of the night were enshrouded 
in deepest mystery. 

‘‘In the words of the immortal Socrates,” he 
said, staying his slim comrade’s progress effectually 
by placing his huge bulk in the way, “now that 
your colossal intellect has evolved this poster, Hicks, 
and I have broken training to stay up this late, 
what are you going to do with it?” 

“Since the lights are out,” responded Hicks lucid- 
ly, “you must be content to work in the dark, my 
colleagues. Before we seek the embrace of Mor- 
pheus, much remaineth yet to be did. Theophilus 
will cover Smithson, Butch, Nordyke, while Icha- 
bod and I will attend to Bannister. Slide two dodg- 
ers into every room, under the door, and stick sev- 
eral’ on the corridor walls. I’ll put some in the 
Quad, in the locker-rooms, on the Gym bulletin- 
board, and even on the athletic field fence, so ” 

“Don’t be so mysterious, you lunatic,” commented 
Ichabod crushingly. “You labor under the delusion 
that the mantle of Kellar, the famous Mystifier, has 
fallen on your shoulders. See here ; you announce 
that you have a brilliant plan for the permanent 
suppression of the Freshmen; what is your luminous 
scheme, Hicks, and ” 

“Remember the Light Brigade!” grinned the 
baffling Hicks, as they climbed the stairway of 
Smithson. “Don’t get impatient, fellows; just be 


120 


HICKS’ COUNTER CAMPAIGN 


content that I have shed my butterfly existence long 
enough to focus my stupendous mind on this prob- 
lem. Help me to get my dodgers in the- dormitories, 
so the Counter Campaign will be launched; as to 
my scintillating scheme, leave it to me.” 

At a quarter to one a.m., T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., stood by the window of his room. The dormi- 
tories, except Creighton, were filled with his posters, 
the campus and the college buildings, even Ban- 
nister Field fence, were plastered — the Gymnasium 
and shower-baths, the doors of the classrooms in 
Recitation Hall — everything had been posted, until 
it looked like Quarantine had been declared. 

Everything was ready for the next move in Hicks’ 
Counter Campaign against the revolutionary Roddy 
and the Freshmen. He was confident that 1919 and 
the upper-classmen would enthusiastically support 
him in his highly original plan, but the crisis would 
be when he and his aides-de-camp endeavored to se- 
cure Prexy’s official sanction — so that the ‘^Tom 
Sawyer”-inspired idea might be given its trial. 

‘‘On our beloved Prexy,” reflected Hicks, gaz- 
ing across the dimly lighted Quadrangle at Creigh- 
ton Hall, “I must exercise all of my diplomatic 
skill. Oh, I hope I don’t fail to convince him, for 
if I do, nothing can save Bannister from Roddy’s 
ambition. It’s not fair — Roddy is scheming for his 
glory, while / fight for my alma mater; for myself, 

121 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


I could accept defeat smilingly, but — I miist win, 
for the Gold and Green 

So it came to pass that when the six-thirty rising- 
bell sounded the next morning, the Bannister colle- 
gians discovered on the floor of their rooms the 
neatly printed sheet. All the drowsiness fled from 
the eyes of the excited Sophomores, Juniors, and 
Seniors, while the Freshmen were excited as they 
beheld the plastered campus when they read: 

AN URGENT APPEAL TO EVERY UPPER-CLASS- 
MAN AT BANNISTER COLLEGE! 

IF YOU HAVE COLLEGE SPIRIT, READ— THEN 
HELP US ACT! 

1. Our Alma Mater faces a TERRIBLE CRISIS ! 
Every collegian must realize that the latest Freshman 
defi is nothing less than a STRIKE. Let no one be 
fooled by their explanation as to why they resigned those 
‘Tights” — which are really obligations! If we do not 
yield to this Demand, undoubtedly the Freshman Equal 
Suffrage League will, finding that we hold firm, return 
to Militantism ! 

2. EVERYONE realizes that this foolish act of 1920’s 
paralyzes all athletic activity at Bannister. We face the 
Fact that unless we conquer the Freshmen, our splendid 
chances for the State Football Championship this season 
are killed! There is every reason to believe that this 
Freshman “strike” will continue indefinitely, unless 
checked, and that inestiniable harm will be done; hence, 
we must act at once! 

3. NO ONE believes now that it is merely an issue 
between the Sophomores and the Freshmen; it has never 
been ! It is a PERIL our college faces, and we must 


122 


HICKS’ COUNTER CAMPAIGN 

UNITE to save Bannister ! For the Future of our Alma 
Mater, as well as its Present, we must cooperate. NOW 
is the time to crush forever this Freshman revolt! 

4. WE HAVE A PLAN which, if we secure the sanc- 
tion of President Alford and the Faculty, is certain to 
restore campus order ! WE ASK the whole-hearted sup- 
port of every collegian in our campaign to QUELL the 
Freshmen ! The purpose of this poster is to get the 
promise of every upper-classman and Sophomore to stand 
by us in our FIGHT I 

5. WE REQUEST the Juniors and Seniors to elect 
Five representatives from each class, to join with Five 
similarly elected Sophomores, the Fifteen to serve as a 
Committee ! This Committee will meet in the Editorial 
Rooms of the Bannister Weekly on Friday night, at 
8 P.M. when T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., will outline his plan, 
and if it is accepted definite steps will be taken for im- 
mediate action! 

6 . MR. HICKS wishes to submit his idea to a Student 
Committee, elected by the collegians, and after he has 
outlined it, the Student Body must decide on its avail- 
ability and perfect its details ! This is a CRISIS the 
entire college must meet, and every student will have a 
voice in the matter! AND REMEMBER, if we get 
Faculty authority for our plan, THE FRESHMEN 
WILL BE SUBDUED FOR GOOD, and BANNISTER 
ATHLETICS SAVED! 

7. FOR DEAR OLD BANNISTER, give this careful 
interest ! Do you want the GOLD AND GREEN to win 
the STATE FOOTBALL CHAMPIONSHIP— for the 
first time in FIVE YEARS ? Do you want to save your 
Alma Mater from SHAME AND DISGRACE? If so, 
remember, THE FRESHMEN MUST AND CAN BE 
GOVERNED, but we must act AT ONCE! The result 
of the Committee Meeting will be announced on the Gym 


123 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


bulletin board, and acted upon by a Student Mass Meet- 
ing soon afterward. 

(Signed) Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., T9, 
Chairman of The Counter-Campaign, 

This printed poster, created by the mental toil of 
the festive Hicks, and executed by Ichabod’s physi- 
cal endeavors, aroused the campus to the highest 
altitude of excitement. All day Friday the Hicks’ 
Counter Campaign was the subject of conversation 
at Bannister ; the students in the dormitories, class- 
rooms and on the football field speculated and con- 
jectured — the debonair Sophomore was pestered 
with multitudinous queries as to what brilliant plan 
he had in mind, but he was severely silent. 

If T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., had entertained any 
doubts, whatsoever as to whether his anti-Freshman 
crusade would be supported, they were shattered to 
smithereens. His room was the rendezvous of en- 
thusiastic Juniors and Seniors who dropped in to 
pledge their best efforts in behalf of whatever idea 
he advanced. The football squad, the track and 
field team, the baseball enthusiasts — all assured him 
of their loyalty, while class meetings were held that 
afternoon to elect the five representatives. 

At half-past seven Friday night, the sunny Hicks, 
with the four other Sophomore representatives to the 
Student Committee, assembled in the 1919 leader’s 
cozy quarters before going to the editorial sanctum 


124 


HICKS’ COUNTER CAMPAIGN 

of the Bannister Weekly. Butch Brewster, Beef 
McNaughton, Pudge Langdon, and little Theophilus 
Opperdyke had been elected — Hicks, naturally, being 
the Chairman of the Committee of Fifteen. 

Big Butch Brewster, tremendously proud of his 
brilliant companion, though forever condemning his 
frivolous existence, growled : 

‘‘Well, the fellows are showing their faith in you 
Hicks, you infinitesimal atom of humanity! I 
suppose, now, you scatterbrained candidate for 
Matteawan, that you will disgrace ’19 by some 
awful blunder.” 

But the happy-go-lucky Hicks, remembering how 
the collegians had loyally pledged their support, 
thrilled with a determination to win his fight against 
the dangerously ambitious Roddy Perkins. In truth, 
he was overwhelmed by this mighty testimonial of 
Bannister’s belief in him, and in his heart he ferv- 
ently hoped that the crisis of his campaign would 
be passed — that Prexy would consent to give the 
big idea a trial. 

However, since the irrepressible youth would not, 
for a King’s ransom, have let his comrades discover 
that he was actually serious for once in his care- 
free career, he grinned blithesomely at the ponder- 
ously earnest Butch. 

“Just leave it to me, old man — ” he advised con- 
fidently. “When once my colossal brain tackles a 


125 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


problem, be it of Gargantuan proportions, you may 
rest assured that it will be solved, and — ” 

“You — ” exploded Butch Brewster, and then — 
because the dictionary contained no words ade- 
quately forcible to express his feelings, he repeated 
scathingly — “You!” 


CHAPTER X 


bannister's big brotherhood 

T he Bannister Weekly — that excessively liter- 
ary publication perpetrated by Editor-in-chief 
Shakespeare Sawtelle and his accomplices, the edi- 
torial staff, went to press Saturday afternoon, so 
that the next issue failed to chronicle the momentous 
developments subsequent to the Committee of Fif- 
teen’s meeting on Friday night. 

However, the indefatigable Shakespeare, with a 
journalistic efficiency that would have done credit 
to a reporter of the New York Journal, succeeded 
in crowding into its pages an account of the Com- 
mittee conclave itself, with a description of T. Havi- 
land Hicks, Jr.’s scintillating scheme for the per- 
manent suppression of Roddy Perkins and the revo- 
lutionary Freshmen. 

True, the outline of the wonderful plan was copied 
from the announcements that were posted on the 


127 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Gymnasium bulletin-board and in the dormitories 
on Saturday morning, explaining the great idea to 
the excitedly waiting collegians, but, never-the-less, 
it was a journalistic triumph for Editor Shakespeare 
Sawtelle. 

The Bannister Weekly, which had already printed 
in another part an article indignantly condemning 
Roddy Perkins’ ultimatum, and graphically describ- 
ing its paralyzing effects on old Bannister, chron- 
icled Hicks’ presentation of his plan as follows : 

HICKS TO THE RESCUE ! BANNISTER MAY YET 
BE SAVED ! SPECIAL EXTRA ! ! ! 

REPRESENTATIVE STUDENT COMMITTEE OF FIFTEEN MEETS ! 
PRESIDENT HICKS, OF ’19, PROPOSES A SCHEME FOR 
GOVERNING THE FRESHMEN ! ENTHUSIASTICALLY 
BOOSTED BY COMMITTEE ! NOW UP TO THE COLLEGIANS 
— WHAT WILL YOU DO? 

Last night a Committee composed of fifteen students, 
five from each of the three upper-classes, respectively, 
elected by their classes, assembled in the Editorial Rooms 
of the Bannister Weekly, at the request of Mr. Thomas 
Haviland Hicks, Jr. After speeches had been made, 
showing the terrible athletic crisis that Bannister faces, 
and proving that some drastic action must be taken at 
once to bring the Freshmen under a permanent rule, Mr. 
Hicks took the floor with a stirring address, the salient 
points of which are as follows: 

‘Thanks to James Roderick Perkins’ week of grace, 
before his direful ultimatum takes effect, we still have 
several days in which to act! The Freshmen will not 
quit athletics before next Thursday, and by that time, 


128 


BANNISTER’S BIG BROTHERHOOD 


if the student-body will UNITE in a Counter Campaign, 
we may successfully avert the crisis, and save our hopes 
of the State Football Championship ! 

‘‘No one will deny the need of quick and effective ac- 
tion ! We must crush this Freshman revolt — it is urgent 
that we make sure no repetition of this shameful condi- 
tion shall ever occur in the future ! For the good of our 
alma mater, and of each succeeding Freshman class, some 
upper-class power over Freshmen is absolutely necessary! 
This self-evident fact is universally recognized and en- 
forced in every college and university, in all Prep Schools, 
in our country ! 

“The present Freshman Equal Rights idea is absurd! 
Why does not Roddy Perkins ask the Faculty to support 
his ridiculous campaign? Why does he not ask Doctor 
Alford to let the Freshmen have no inspections in Creigh- 
ton Hall, a right that only the Seniors possess? Why 
does he not demand of the Faculty that Freshmen be 
allowed to go home for two weeks before their last ex- 
aminations, as graduates do for Senior Finals? Because 
— he knows there is no justice or right in such demands, 
and the Faculty would deal summarily with a revolt 
against it! (Loud applause.) 

“We Juniors and Sophomores do not have equal rights 
with the Seniors, nor should we! Why should we come 
and go as we will, unhindered by rules or inspections, 
when we have not reached that freedom deserved by those 
who have come to their final year, who realize the ap- 
proaching sadness of their last Commencement? Why, 
then, should the Freshmen, as yet uninspired with true 
college spirit, turbulent and needing influence over them, 
demand what is not rightfully theirs ! 

“You fellows understand that the sudden abolition of 
all hazing from Bannister has caused this unparalleled 
state of affairs! As my erudite colleague, Theophilus 


129 


T, HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Opperdyke, once stated — ‘A fatal mistake was made when 
all hazing was abolished, without any provision having 
been made to supply something in its place! Hazing — 
an acknowledged evil, nevertheless, has always been a 
power for good over the Freshmen — their awe of it has 
kept them in their place, and now, with that influence 
torn away nothing has been substituted — hence, they run 
riot on the campus !’ 

‘‘I frankly give Theophilus glory for inspiring my plan ! 
In fact, it is his idea entirely, but I have modified it to 
suit the peculiar needs of this situation ! As no one could 
present the case as lucidly as Theophilus, permit me to 
quote him at some length: 

“ ‘Since the Faculty cannot at all times watch over 
the Freshmen, the upper-classmen should exert some 
beneficial authority over them! We must find a substitute 
for hazing — one that is not objectionable — one that is 
just and equitable, and yet — will produce the same desired 
result as hazing — the good behaviour of the Freshmen ! 
But — the authority wielded by upper-classmen over 
Freshmen should be for their own good — that is, instead 
o’f awing them into good conduct by the fear of hazing, 
the upper-classmen should govern them by rules and 
laws made with the conscientious aim to help form char- 
acter 

Here the Bannister Weekly, per Editor Sawtelle, 
intervened with a paragraph describing the ovation 
given bewildered little Theophilus Opperdyke, whose 
masterly summing up of the situation was marvelous 
in the estimation of the Committee. Then Shakes- 
peare resumed with : 

At this juncture, Mr. Hicks placed his hand dramatic- 
ally on Theophilus’ shoulder, and thundered: 


130 


BANNISTER’S BIG BROTHERHOOD 


‘^Hear, then, the foundation of my plan, inspired by 
my Solomon-like colleague I On this sentence of his is 
builded my hopes of quelling the Freshmen and saving 
Bannister ! Theophilus said. The only solution for this 
problem is — Faculty authority administered by the stu- 
dents themselves!* The upper-classmen, friends, must 
have full pov^er to control all affairs of Freshman life, 
backed up by Faculty sanction, with Faculty punishment 
for law infractions ! In short, the theory of my idea 
is — The Government of Freshmen to be vested in the 
hands of a Student Council of upper-classmen — hacked 
by the Faculty V* 

The Bannister Weekly again took the floor — in its 
article — to explain that Mr. Hicks had elucidated his 
modification of Theophilus’ idea, after quoting him ; 
that is, Theophilus had originally extended his 
theory to the entire student-body, meaning Student 
Self-Government, but Mr. Hicks had narrowed it to 
a rule over Freshmen only. Then Editor Sawtelle 
stepped aside, and quoted T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. 
further : 

“We all know it is Doctor Alford's dream and ambition 
to see Student Self-Government at Bannister College I 
That means all affairs, of student existence managed by 
the collegians themselves, without any interference from 
the Faculty. We see the principle in our Honor System 
here — our Student Committee run the examinations, and 
no professors are present ! In this system, the responsi- 
bility rests with the fellows — they would make all the 
inspections, see that order obtained in the dormitories, 
and, in brief — regulate their campus life ! 

“But the time is not ripe as yet for Proxy's ambition 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


to be realized ; first, we students must show a keen interest 
in it, for undoubtedly, it makes for manhood, and a bet- 
ter college ! Theophilus meant that Student Government 
would solve this crisis, since the Faculty would punish 
offenders reported to it by the Student Council ! 

“But — because the college must be trained and edu- 
cated to Student Self-Government, because it takes time 
to inculcate its principles into a student-body, what bet- 
ter way is there to begin the theory than by trying it on 
the Freshmen? That is — have the upper-classmen en- 
tirely govern the Freshmen, yet themselves be still under 
Faculty rule, as always ! Thus, a test of Student Self- 
Government principles can be made for Doctor Alford’s 
satisfaction, and, in three years — the entire system may 
be used at Bannister College ! 

“This, my comrades, is the plan I would tonight lay 
before you,, and have you pass judgment on it — but first, 
hear its predominant principle of brotherhood T 

Here the Bannister Weekly announced: 

HICKS EXPLAINS SCOPE AND PURPOSE OF PLAN ! COMMITTEE 
IS IMPRESSED ! 

“My idea’’ — continued Mr. Hicks — “is to form of all 
the upper-classes a Big Brotherhood of Bannister! Every 
Sophomore and upper-classman is to stand in the relation 
of a Big Brother to every Freshman ! In place of being 
awed by hazing, let their good behaviour be effected by 
these Big Brothers talking earnestly with them, advising, 
guiding, and helping them ! But every student must con- 
scientiously enter into the purpose and spirit of the plan 
— striving to be a true Big Brother, one who would have 
his younger brother’s best interests at heart ! 

“Think of the triple good that will result ! You will 
be better for doing service, the Freshmen will be de- 


132 


BANNISTER’S BIG BROTHERHOOD 


veloped in character and love for Bannister, and our 
college will be made stronger and better ! 

‘‘Now, Members of the Committee, I wish to submit 
an outline of the Big Brotherhood, for your approval; 
of course, if it is decided to let the students pass upon it, 
and they ratify the plan, it must be perfected in detail 
before being submitted to Doctor Alford, or put into 
execution V* 

Here the Bannister Weekly appended the plan, as 
copied by Editor-in-chief Sawtelle from the bulletin 
posted on Saturday morning on the Gymnasium 
bulletin-board, for the benefit of the expectant 
students. 

PLANS FOR THE BIG BROTHERHOOD OF BANNISTER ! PLEASE 
READ CAREFULLY ! 

I. This organization shall be called “The Big Brother- 
hood of Bannister” — it shall be composed of the Sopho- 
more, Junior, and Senior classes, and there shall be no 
dues or fees whatsoever ! If ratified by the students, 
and approved by the Faculty, it shall go into effect im- 
mediately after Doctor Alford sanctions it. 

IL Every member must sign a pledge to be a Big 
Brother to the Freshmen, so long as he is at Bannister; 
he promises to strive and guide every Freshman in the 
right way, to help him with friendly advice, to form his 
character for good, to arouse within him a love for his 
college, in brief — to aid every Freshman to develop into 
a splendid college man. 

III. The Executive power shall be vested in a BIG 
BROTHERS’ COUNCIL — composed of ten members of 
each of the three upper-classes; this means that each 
ten shall be elected to the Council by their own class, 


10 


133 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


while the entire Brotherhood shall elect the Officers of 
that body. Also, the whole student-body {except Fresh- 
men) shall have the power to reject, by a three-fourths 
majority vote, any students elected to the Council, either 
as officers or members. 

IV. The Big Brothers’ Council and Officers thereof 
shall be elected three times each collegiate year; the 
President and Officers shall serve two weeks after each 
new election, in order to assist those who have just been 
elected. 

V. The Big Brothers’ Council — acting for The Big 
Brotherhood of Bannister — shall have full power and 
jurisdiction over Creighton Hall and the Freshmen at all 
times! It shall make the inspections, see that study-hour 
is kept, and that order is maintained in the Freshman 
dormitory, reporting to the Council meetings any and all 
infractions of rules, when that body shall decide what 
‘Offenders must be reported to the Faculty for punish- 
:ment ! 

VI. The Faculty will pledge itself not to interfere in 
any way with the Brotherhood’s government of the Fresh- 
men; it will promise to enforce by usual penalty any law 
of the Council that it has sanctioned. It will act sum- 
marily on all law infractions by Freshmen reported to it 
by the Council, after that body has weighed the evidence. 
In brief, the Faculty agrees to hand over, so far as the 
Freshmen are concerned, its authority to the upper-class- 
men, but it will give its moral support to the Brotherhood 
Iby the administering o*f punishment, which it alone may 
do, only, however, upon the recommendation of the Coun- 
cil. 

VII. No law or rule made by the Big Brothers’ Council 
can become effective until approved by a three-fourths 
majority vote of the entire Brotherhood, and then rati- 
fied by the Faculty. The Council, therefore, has no pow- 


134 


BANNISTER’S BIG BROTHERHOOD 


ers greater than those of the Brotherhood proper — it is 
the elected Representative of the students, carrying out 
their wishes, and subject to their majority opinion. It 
is an intermediary between the Freshmen and the Faculty, 
but in itself always subject to the vote of the Brother- 
hood ! 

VIII. The Big Brothers’ Council shall meet once a 
week, and the Brotherhood bi-monthly, to pass on pro- 
spective laws, deal with offenders, transact business, and 
decide on future action. At the bi-monthly meetings, any 
suggestions as to new laws, or to changes made in the 
Constitution and By-Laws, will be voted on by the entire 
Brotherhood. 

IX. Each and every member of this Brotherhood is 
expected to make a definite statement as to his stand on 
the subject o*f Student Self-Government; if in favor of 
that system, each Big Brother pledges himself to do his 
best toward making this trial a success, and promises to 
give his efforts to the final establishment of that institu- 
tion at Bannister. 

X. THE SOPHOMORE CLASS, each year, will be 
allowed to frame TEN RULES for the campus conduct 
of all Freshmen ! These shall be printed on a big Poster, 
designed as the class chooses, and shall be known as THE 
FRESHMAN DECALOGUE! AS SOON as these ten 
rules — ‘which must generally strive for the good of the 
Freshmen — have been ratified by the Brotherhood and 
the Faculty, the Sophomore Class may have Posters 
printed, which the Freshmen must paste around the cam- 
pus ! It is our ambition to make POSTER DAY a Ban- 
nister tradition, and Freshmen must obey this rule of the 
Brotherhood, as well as those of the DECALOGUE I 


CHAPTER XI 


THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL 

T his was all of the Bannister Weekly’s account, 
since that publication went to press before any 
further details could be gotten into type. But what 
happened at Bannister College, after the Committee 
of Fifteen had enthusiastically accepted Hicks’ plan, 
and had drawn up a preliminary outline to be ported 
for the students to read, is a matter of campus 
history. 

At seven-thirty Saturday morning, after break- 
fast — ^as the collegians poured noisily from Delmon- 
ico’s Annex, which was the dining hall, the Com- 
mittee of Fifteen’s announcement, posted on the 
Gymnasium entrance bulletin-board and in each 
dormitory, created a small-sized riot. 

Crowds of wildly excited students fought their 
way through the jostling throng to read the bulletin 
— and, as soon as they had digested the big idea, 

136 


THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL 


exhibited a mild attack of insanity. Sophomores, 
Juniors, and even dignified Seniors, rushed excitedly 
about the campus, shaking hands, thumping one an- 
other lustily — ^members of the football squad, hilar- 
ious with joy and renewed hopes, displayed an 
elephantine sportiveness, and the campus seemed in- 
fested with a horde of lunatics. 

Beneath the bulletin was appended a notice : 

WE REQUEST EVERY STUDENT {except Fresh- 
men) to be present at a Mass Meeting tonight (Saturday) 
in the Auditorium, when this plan will be thoroughly ex- 
plained, and voted upon. If it is accepted, a Committee 
will wait upon Doctor Alford with the complete Consti- 
tution and by-laws, and endeavor to win his consent. 
We shall frame a petition, praying that he and the Faculty 
permit us to try this modified form of Student Govern- 
ment, and we ask every student to sign it, to show we are 
in earnest ! 

WE HAVE EVERY CAUSE to believe that Doctor 
Alford will give his sanction, if he is convinced that we 
intend to carry out the true ‘‘Big Brother” spirit of the 
idea, and if he is sure that Bannister wants the Big 
Brotherhood! LET EVERYONE think over the plan, 
and be on hand at the Mass Meeting to Vote 1 Remem- 
ber — this scheme, put into effect, means — THE END 
OF FRESHMAN INSUBORDINATION AND THE 
SALVATION OF BANNISTER ATHLETICS! 

The notice also contained a few timely remarks 
for the Freshmen, earnestly advising them to sup- 
port the idea, next year, they would be the ones to 
frame the Decalogue, and to help administer the 


137 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


government over Creighton Hall. And — when they 
became Seniors, the time would be ripe for Student 
Self-Government in full, and they would have the 
honor of introducing the system to Bannister. 

All day Saturday, every member of the Com- 
mittee was extremely busy, patiently explaining the 
purpose and general frame-work of The Big Broth- 
erhood of Bannister. In their rooms, on the campus 
or Bannister Field — everywhere, they were constant- 
ly button-holed by eager collegians, who were unable 
to wait for the mass meeting to have questions 
answered. Hicks, in fact, was transformed into 
a human Information Bureau, but it was a joyous 
labor for him, since Bannister was receiving his plan 
with manifest enthusiasm. 

At the mass meeting amid cheers and singing of 
^'Bannister, Bannister, hail, all hail!” the ‘'BIG 
BROTHERHOOD OF BANNISTER” was ac- 
cepted most vociferously by the collegians, without 
one dissenting vote. The petition to Doctor Alford 
and the Faculty — begging that Hicks’ plan be given 
a fair trial, and pledging the signers to carry out 
the true spirit of the Brotherhood — was signed by 
every student at college, except, naturally, the Fresh- 
men. The Committee of Fifteen, with T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr. as chairman, was unanimously re-elected 
to lay the matter before Doctor Alford, and to 
secure his approval. 


138 


THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL 


Then — the gathering adjourned in a perfect riot 
of joy. Hicks, futilely protesting, was carried from 
the auditorium on the shoulders of the admiring 
throng, and little Theophilus, terrified, but absurdly 
happy, was transported by big Bull Tucker. Singing 
— ‘'Here’s to good old Hicks, drink it down — drink 
it down” — the students paraded around the campus 
and ended with a general celebration in the Quad- 
rangle — where the votes-for-Freshmen campaign 
had been launched. 

James Roderick Perkins, as he and his followers, 
aghast at the sight, gazed down at the weird snake- 
dance of the exuberant collegians in the Quadrangle, 
understood that Hicks’ plan for the suppression 
of the Freshmen had been unanimously ratified by 
Bannister. 

And — master-politician that he was, the young 
Napoleon of 1920 realized that if Prexy sanctioned 
the Brotherhood, his votes-for-Freshmen campaign 
was shattered, and the “ultimatum” that had para- 
lyzed Bannister would be rendered powerless. Be- 
cause — as Roddy clearly foresaw — among the first 
laws framed by the Brotherhood, and backed by 
the Faculty, would be — laws requiring the Fresh- 
meffto pay Athletic Association and Literary Society 
dues, and to report for athletic teams! 

“He is a wonder,” muttered the Freshman leader, 
unconsciously repeating his rival’s tribute to him. 


139 


T. haviland hicks, sophomore 


^‘Now I know why all I heard when I came to Ban- 
nister was ‘Hicks! Hicks!’ If Prexy O. K.’s this 
Brotherhood, I am defeated! It appeals to my 
classmates strongly, already. Biff, Hefty, and others 
are begging me to yield.” 

Roddy Perkins, because of his own master-mind, 
could appreciate the wonderful strategy of Hicks’ 
Counter Campaign which cleverly achieved, by its 
appeal to the students, the necessary thing to crush 
the Freshman revolt, yet that which otherwise could 
not have been gained — the iron hand of the Faculty. 
That is — not even in such a crisis would Hicks 
or the collegians have appealed to the Faculty to 
quell the Freshmen, that would have been contrary 
to their code. 

But — through this modified idea of Student Self- 
Government, enthusiastically supported by the stu- 
dent-body, the Faculty could be put in a position 
to enforce the Brotherhood’s laws, which meant, in 
brief, that the Freshmen would be governed! And, 
as Roddy saw, the splendid idea would appeal to 
many of his own class — the thought that some day 
Bannister students would govern themselves, and 
not be interfered with by the Faculty. 

Like the monarch at Belshazzar’s Feast, the am- 
bitious, but misguided leader of the Freshmen saw 
the “handwriting on the wall.” He saw his dream 
of campus conquest broken into fragments, he vis- 


140 


THE HANDWRITING ON • THE WALL 


ioned the total collapse of his mighty enterprise! 
And, dimly — he glimpsed himself deserted by his 
own followers, if this Brotherhood idea received the 
sanction of the Faculty ! 

‘‘I won't give up,’’ he vowed bitterly, looking 
down at the elated crowd in the Quadrangle, ‘'not 
until Prexy’s official approval is gained by Hicks. 
If that comes to pass, then — Fll admit defeat. But 
while there’s a fighting chance, Fll stick," 

Though the indomitable-spirited Roddy knew it 
not, the triumph of T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., who 
earnestly fought for his alma mater in a just cause, 
would mean the making of the ambitious Freshman 
leader! Victorious in his demoralizing campaign, 
Roddy would have been impossible to help — he’d 
have plunged into some vaster enterprise ! Defeated, 
deserted, crushed, he would be ready to listen to 
reason, to accept advice — and possibly to have his 
bulldog will-power directed for the general good of 
his college. 

At eleven o’clock that night, T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., with his faithful comrade, Butch Brewster, 
passed through the hallway of Creighton Hall, to 
enter the Quadrangle. The generous Hicks, to 
celebrate his first triumph with the Big Idea — its 
joyous acceptance by Bannister, had insisted on 
taking the Committee of Fifteen down to Jerry’s 
for what to the campus was chastely known as a 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘‘beefsteak bust/' and the two Sophomores had 
lingered on the homeward stroll. 

Suddenly the shadow-like Hicks seized his big 
comrade by the arm, motioning him to be silent, 
and they paused outside the door of Biff Pemberton's 
room. Distinctly they heard that behemoth Fresh- 
man's voice, as he excitedly addressed his room- 
mate, Hefty Hollingsworth : 

“I tell you. Hefty — " declared Biff vehemently, 
“Roddy is beaten! Hicks has originated a plan that 
can't fail — and, it's a fine one. Student Self-Gov- 
ernment is a great thing for a college — it lets the 
fellows feel they are trusted, and that means the 
making of them." 

“Sure," sounded Hefty's deep voice. “And think, 
old man — won't we have fun next year, making that 
Decalogue ! The trouble was, I guess — with hazing 
abolished, we Freshmen had no incentive to be good, 
because — we had nothing to anticipate when we 
became Sophomores! Most Freshmen took their 
hazing gracefully, because they expected to get re- 
venge the next season ! But if Prexy agrees to this 
plan, think what we can look forward to!" 

“Some of our class," Biff responded, “have said 
that we Freshmen ought to sign that petition. I 
don't agree — we must stick by Roddy, while there 
is hope. But, Hefty — as soon as Prexy's sanction 
is gained, I intend to obey Brotherhood orders, and 


142 


THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL 


I’ll be on the football field. Bucking the Faculty 
is a different matter, besides — I’ve come to feel that 
Roddy does not see things right, after all, and ” 

In the Quadrangle, the festive Hicks executed a 
weird dance that would have shamed a Sioux medi- 
cine man, and smote the bewildered Butch Brewster 
harmlessly with his fist. Quelled by the iron grip of 
the Bannister fullback, the sunny youth explained: 

“That is the secret of success in my plan! Butch,” 
he gasped. “And I never saw it until now 1 Even 
Theophilus’ brain failed to grasp this unassailable 
truth — the desire to wield authority is a predominant 
trait of all humanity. That is why the Brotherhood 
appeals to upper-classmen now, and, it influences the 
Freshmen, because, as Hefty said, they’ll have some- 
thing to anticipate, which they lacked before this.” 

“I guess you are right,” agreed Butch, thought- 
fully. “As Shakespeare said, ‘Man, dressed in a 
little brief authority, parades such tricks before the 
high heavens as make the angels weep.’ He knew 
that the predominant desire of mankind is to exer- 
cise power.” 

As they ascended the stairs of Smithson, Hicks 
was seized with a wild paroxysm of laughter, that 
left him weak and helpless, swaying against the 
wall of the third-floor corridor. Just in time to 
avert the attack of the wrathful Butch, the hilarious 
youth stammered: 


143 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘‘Butch — your quotation made me think — 

“That is marvelous,” growled Butch, shaking him 
to a more sober condition. “It really comes under 
the head of a miracle — anything that makes you 
think.” 

“ — That when we of the Brotherhood get dressed 
in a little brief authority,” concluded the undisturbed 
Hicks, “we shall surely cause a lachrymose state 
among the angels — they’ll be forever weeping.” 

Reaching Hicks’ cozy quarters, they found Jack 
Merritt, Bull Tucker, Doc MacGruder, and Babe 
McCabe — these collegians had been among the fif- 
teen at Jerry’s, but had gotten back to the campus 
before the Sophomore president and Butch Brewster. 

To them, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. outlined the con- 
versation overheard in Creighton, and he expressed 
the firm belief that once Prexy sanctioned the Big 
Brotherhood of Bannister, the Freshman revolt 
would be ended forever. Therefore, everything de- 
pended on convincing good Doctor Alford that the 
Brotherhood was earnestly desired, that the students 
would fulfil its fraternal spirit toward Freshmen, and 
— that as soon as practicable, Student Government 
was wanted. 

“We know the Freshmen will submit readily to 
being governed,” he finished, “because — they will 
have the assurance of themselves being able to rule, 
next year! So far as the fellows are concerned, we 


144 


THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL 


have succeeded — ^we are sure the Freshmen will sub- 
mit — but, Prexy must be persuaded!” 

Bull Tucker, staring at the brilliant Hicks, nodded 
vigorously his agreement. By building his great 
plan on a predominant characteristic of humanity — 
the universal love of wielding authority, the 1919 
leader had assured himself of the enthusiastic sup- 
port of the collegians. And — knowing Doctor Al- 
ford’s fervent ambition to see Student Government 
at Bannister, the chance of ultimate success seemed 
probable. 

“Hicks — ’’ said Butch Brewster, sternly, “you 
have the unanimous backing of the students — except 
Freshmen, you have the signature of every fellow 
to your petition, but — ^you haven’t got Prexy’s sanc- 
tion. Without it, the entire campaign will go to 
smash — why didn’t you get it first, you scatter- 
brained — ” 

“Because — ” Hicks grinned cheerfully at his 
companions, “had I gone to Prexy, I would have 
been only one! Even the Student Committee might 
not have influenced his decision, though I feel sure 
he will consent. But — with every student at Ban- 
nister — Freshmen always excepted — enthusiastic, 
with that monster petition to show him, with the 
fellows outside on the campus, shouting for the 
Brotherhood, why — it will be a demonstration that 
Prexy simply can’t resist! 


145 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

‘‘Fve worked toward a climax, Butch — the wave 
of popular sentiment will grow stronger, and it 
must sweep this plan to success! Doctor Alford 
is just — he will readily recognize the need for this 
Brotherhood — he is ambitious to see Student Gov- 
ernment here — hence, knowing, the whole college is 
in earnest, he will surely let us try its principles/’ 

‘‘Quite true!” interposed Jack Merritt. “But as 
for your getting Rule Ten approved — which 
authorizes the Sophomores to frame a ‘Decalogue,’ 
put its laws on a poster, and make the Freshmen 
paste them around the campus each year — how will 
you put that across, Hicks?’’ 

“Oh, just leave it to me — ” grinned the serene 
Hicks, echoing his usual slogan when himself in 
doubt. “I’ll persuade Prexy to agree, all right, for 
to the class of ’19, that is the most important rule 
of them all !” 

Half an hour later, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., a 
trifle weary from his furious campaigning, that had 
started with his inspiration gained from reading 
“Tom Sawyer” two nights before, stood by the win- 
dow of his room — alone, for his companions had 
departed. Pie gazed out into the dimly lighted 
Quadrangle, out at the dark, silent dormitories, and 
at Creighton Hall, that hotbed of Freshman an- 
archy ! 

He had done his best for old Bannister — it all 
146 



‘ I will not fail now! I must gain Proxy’s sanction — ^for 
dear old Bannister! ’ ” 



T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


rested now with Prexy! The festive Hicks, in- 
spired with a love for his alma mater, had thrown 
himself into this fight with all his mental energy; 
he desired its success as intensely as Roddy Perkins 
did that of his Freshman Equal Rights Crusade, 
only — the Sophomore toiled for his, college ! 

For the time, it was not the old, happy-go-lucky 
Hicks, but a serious, meditative youth, thrilling with 
college spirit, loyal to Bannister, ready to sacrifice 
anything for his alma mater, who stood by the 
window. Then the soft, mellow chimes of the ’02 
clock in the library tower sounded the hour of mid- 
night ! 

"Tor dear old Bannister — ’’ whispered Hicks, 
profoundly moved by a mighty love for the Gold 
and Green, "T will not fail now! I must gain 
Proxy’s sanction — for dear old Bannister!” 


CHAPTER XII 

BANNISTER SHOWS PREXY 

M onday morning the hungry collegians, 
hurrying to Delmonico's Annex for break- 
fast, quelled their ravenous appetites long enough 
to read eagerly — posted on the Gymnasium bulletin- 
board, and in the corridors of Smithson, Nordyke 
and Bannister — the following announcement: 

NOTICE! TO EVERY SOPHOMORE, JUNIOR, 
AND SENIOR AT BANNISTER! TONIGHT (Mon- 
day) — at eight o’clock — the Committee of Fifteen, T. 
Haviland Hicks, Jr., Chairman, will wait upon Doctor 
Alford in his study — Administration Building. The ter- 
rible state of affairs on the campus, and the paralyzed 
condition of athletics — due to the present Freshman in- 
surrection — will be outlined to our President ! The cause 
of 1920’s insubordination — the abolition of all hazing — 
will be explained ! The urgent need of drastic action and 
immediate relief will be shown ! Then — the BIG 
BROTHERHOOD OF BANNISTER and its principles 
will be presented to Prexy, and the Committee will plead 


11 


149 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


for its institution at Bannister. TONIGHT — at 8 p.m. — 
the Committee of Fifteen will strive for the success of 
the great CAUSE — the salvation of Old Bannister! 

Let EVERY Sophomore, Junior, and Senior DO HIS 
PART ! For your alma mater, show Prexy — while the 
Committee pleads our Cause, that — BANNISTER 
WANTS THE BROTHERHOOD! Show Doctor Al- 
ford that campus sentiment is unanimous (except the 
Freshmen) — for it! NOW is the time — tonight at 8 p.m. 
—convince Prexy that— WE WANT THE BIG BROTH- 
ERHOOD OF BANNISTER! Signed— T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., Chairman — Committee of Fifteen. 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., at a quarter to eight 
Monday night, stood on the tiger-skin rug that 
adorned the floor of his cozy room. With an ex- 
pression of terrific seriousness on his cherubic 
countenance, the erstwhile irrepressible youth was 
gazing steadfastly at a somewhat luridly hued pic- 
ture on the wall. It was entitled ‘‘Napoleon at 
Waterloo!’^ 

“And thou, too, Oh, Roddy Perkins V breathed 
Hicks, as .he surveyed the melancholy face and 
pathetic figure of Mr. Napoleon Bonaparte, “Thou 
would-be Napoleon of the Bannister campus! If 
my Brotherhood safely passes the crisis tonight, 
thou shalt meet thy Waterloo 

Suddenly, a realization of what depended on the 
interview with Prexy came to the sunny Sophomore, 
and instinctively, he clenched his hands in mental 
anguish. Tonight was the culmination of his 


BANNISTER SHOWS PREXY 


counter campaign against the too-ambitious Roddy 
— on the fate of the Brotherhood hung all chances 
of Bannister’s athletic success. In two more hours 
it would all be ended — this awful suspense, for 
either Doctor Alford’s sanction would be won, 
or 

“We can't fail, we won't!" groaned Hicks, strid- 
ing to the window excitedly. “Not after all our 
campaigning! Why, every fellow in college except 
the Freshmen are wild for it, and even they are 
willing, for the sake of their authority next year! 
If good old Prexy will only see that ” 

Whatever was to dawn on Doctor Alford’s vision 
went unannounced, for at that moment the feverish 
Hicks, looking from his window, saw something 
that effectually took his mind from the great crisis. 
Below him, seated on the steps of Smithson, or 
pacing nervously up and down the Quadrangle be- 
fore the Sophomore dormitory, he beheld — the cele- 
brated Committee of Fifteen. 

The four 1919 members — Butch, Beef, - Pudge, 
and little Theophilus Opperdyke, stood by the steps ; 
the Junior representatives — Jack Merritt, Heavy 
Hughes, Babe McCabe, Bucky Turner, and a digni- 
fied collegian always called by his full name — Peter 
Tillinghast Kingdon — were seated; strolling up and 
down restlessly were the five Seniors — good Par- 
son Parmalee, dependable Bull Tucker, Doc Mac- 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Cruder, Hippopotamus Barrett, and Socrates Oster- 
haus, the senior vice-president. 

‘That — Hicks!’’ stormed Butch Brewster, find- 
ing all condemnatory adjectives utterly inadequate, 
and expressing his wrath by an expressive rhetorical 
pause. “Here it is nearly eight, and he is not on 
the job! There is a light in his room, and I’ll 
wager he is fussing up for the interview, con- 
centrating his colossal intellect on the proper choice 
of a necktie!” 

“Don’t say that. Butch!” quavered the shocked 
little Theophilus, always faithful to his friend, the 
graceless Hicks. “Think of how he has toiled for 
our alma mater, plotting against Roddy Perkins, 
planning this Brotherhood, as a way to save Ban- 
nister ! Even now, fellows, Hicks may be suffering 
mental tortures — wondering if Doctor Alford will 
consent.” 

In this last statement, Theophilus was entirely 
correct, only, with Butch Brewster’s explosion of 
wrathful indignation at his absence, T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., shed his mantle of Care as a discarded 
garment. At he gazed down at the waiting Com- 
mittee, a fiendish inspiration stalked in the corridors 
of the Sophomore leader’s brain, and, dodging 
away from the window, the incorrigible Hicks actu- 
ally reached for his banjo. 

“Oh, won’t I shock them!” he chuckled, over- 


152 


BANNISTER SHOWS PREXY 

whelmed by the magnitude of his idea. “So I am 
crushed with the burden of responsibility, am I? 
And I suffer tortures of mind, do I? Well, here’s 
where the campus and my dear friend Butch dis- 
cover just how heavily worry weighs on my in- 
tellect.” 

Thus it chanced that — a few seconds later — the 
utterly unexpected happened. Below, in the Quad- 
rangle, the Committee of Fifteen, including even 
the erstwhile wrathy Butch Brewster, gazed in 
silent awe, up at the window of T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr.’s boudoir — impressed by the remarks of the 
faithful little Theophilus, one thought possessed 
them all ! And it was eloquently expressed by Peter 
Tillinghast Kingdon: 

“Behold, in yonder lonely room — ” exclaimed 
that Demosthenes-like Junior, “wrapped in media- 
tion, paces our great leader ! The mighty Hicks, at 
the climax of his terrible struggle for his alma 
mater, plans the final fight! Oh, my fellows — why 
should we be impatient ? Even now, Hicks is bring- 
ing all that colossal intellect, that brilliant brain, to 
bear on this crisis — ^how to gain Prexy’s content! 
Wait, for Hicks meditates, and ” 

At that dramatic instant, when the subject of this 
oration, usually regarded by the Bannister campus 
as wholly futile, was being rapidly transformed by 
Peter Tillinghast Kingdon’s eloquence into a demi- 


153 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


god, enveloped in a roseate haze of glory, some- 
thing happened! A slender figure appeared at 
Hicks’ window, a banjo was strummed, a la trouba- 
dour, and upon the unbelieving ears of the aston- 
ished Committee of Fifteen sounded, in a familiar, 
raucous voice: 

‘^Come, all ye rounders, if you want to hear — 

A story about a brave engineer ! 

Casey Jones was the rounder’s name — 

On a big six-eight wheeler, boys, he won his fame. 

The caller called Casey at half-past four — 

He kissed his wife at the cabin door; 

He mounted to the cabin, with his orders in his hand — 
And he took his farewell trip to the Promised Land !” 

For a few seconds after the rollicking ballad 
smote upon the stillness of the Quadrangle — silence I 
Though the stunned committee failed to notice the 
phenomenon at the time, no windows in Smithson, 
Nordyke, or Bannister flew up, no derisive com- 
ments were hurled at the pestersome Hicks ! Over 
in Creighton, to be sure, heads were thrust out, 
by the Freshmen, under the iron rule of James 
Roderick Perkins — ordered to keep the peace until 
the ^^ultimatum” went into effect, contented them- 
with being spectators. 

It was unbelievable — incomprehensible — brain- 
staggering! T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., whose banjo 
and minstrelsy had been hushed throughout all the 


154 


BANNISTER SHOWS PREXY 


Napoleonic campaign of Roddy Perkins, who had 
been serious and thoughtful during his own counter 
campaign, nozv, at the climax of it all, at the hour 
when the fate of Bannister tradition and athletics 
hung trembling in the balance — depended on the in- 
terview with Prexy — actually twanged his pester- 
some banjo, and roared out a ragtime song! 

As the paralyzed collegians stood, before the 
doorway of Smithson, the blithesome Hicks, thor- 
oughly enjoying the sensation he created, swung rol- 
lickingly into the chorus : 

“Casey Jones — mounted to the cabin 1 
Casey Jones — with his orders in his hand! 

Casey Jones — mounted to the cabin — 

And took his farewell trip to the — 

‘This is too muchr exploded Bull Tucker, rag- 
ing like a berserker, and charging for the stairway 
of Smithson. “Come on, fellows, wedl drag that 
conscienceless Hicks into the Quad and toss him 
sky-high in a blanket! Casey Jones, indeed! Fol- 
low me ” 

Like a charge of the heavy brigade — giving 
vent to shouts that were a cross between cowboy 
whoops and Indian war cries. Bull Tucker, Butch 
Brewster, Heavy Hughes, Babe McCabe, Beef Mc- 
Naughton, Pudge Langdon, and Jack Merritt lum- 
bered up the stairs; followed closely by the rest of 
the indignant committee, with terrified Theophilus 


155 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


bringing- up the rear, the volcanic collegians shook 
the dormitory, as they clattered up to the third floor 
corridor. 

‘‘Grab the villain!” shrieked Doc McGruder, as 
the heavy-weights rushed into the cozy den of the 
happy-go-lucky troubadour, who, startled by the 
sudden invasion, stood by the window, clutching his 
precious banjo, and staring helplessly at the raging 
behemoths. “Snatch a blanket off the bed, some- 
one — we’ll bump the solar system with this young 
Caruso ! We’ll teach him to torture us, the grace- 
less reprobate 1 Drag him out, Bull, and ” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., aroused from his par- 
alyzed condition, and ‘following his inevitable policy 
of Safety First, made a dive that would have de- 
lighted Annette Kellermann, and plunged headlong 
beneath the davenport! From this futile retreat he 
w^as dragged feet first by Butch, Beef, and Babe, 
while Jack Merritt despoiled the bed of a blanket! 
This article was to be used in giving the wayward 
Hicks his first experiences in aviation. 

“Gentlemen, I beseech you — ” began the grinning 
Hicks, “If you heave me heavenward, my argu- 
ments for Prexy will get all mixed up. Have mercy, 
I implore, and ” 

“Justice, untempered with mercy!” howled Peter 
Tillinghast Kingdom “To the campus with him, 
fellows ! He has horribly transgressed our patience 


BANNISTER SHOWS PREXY 


— he has put himself outside the paling-fence of 
civilization, and he must be treated as a barbarian!” 

‘Tf I have a close shave — ” murmured the irre- 
pressible Hicks, as he felt himself borne from the 
room, 'T'll think a barber has treated me, which is 



Bull Tucker picked up the struggling Hicks.’’ 


almost barber-ovis treatment 1 And this reminds me 
of a barber-shop, for it is a harrow-ing — I mean, 

hair-raising — experience, and ” 

''Shut up!'' stormed Bull Tucker, throwing the 
blanket over Hicks’ face, effectually checking his 
humorous monologue. ^‘Hurry, fellows — I wonder 
where everybody can be? Why, only the Freshmen 
are to be seen — all the Sophs, Juniors, and Seniors 
are gone!” 

Reaching the first floor corridor of Smithson, the 
157 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Committee of Fifteen bore their captive out on 
the campus, to a suitable place near the Administra- 
tion Building. Despite his voluble protests, the 
stout blanket Avas held by ten husky athletes, while 
big Bull Tucker picked up the struggling Hicks 
and dropped him bodily into it — then, while the 
elated Freshm.an gazed down at the unusual scene 
of a Sophomore being tossed, the incorrigible youth, 
undaunted by the terrifying prospect, most ap- 
propriately roared: 

Casey Jones — mounted to the cabin ! 

And took his farewell trip to the Promised Land 

^'Up he goes shouted Bull, grabbing hold of the 
blanket to assist in aviating Hicks. ‘‘You take your 
trip to the Promised Land nozv! Behold Hicks — 
the Boy Aviator, about to take his first flight in a 
‘blanketplane !’ All ready — one — two ’’ 

Just as it seemed that no earthly power could in- 
tervene to save the undeserving Hicks from just 
punishment at the hands of his outraged colleagues, 
there came a startling interruption. The automo- 
bile entrance gates of Bannister Field, opening on 
the campus, a hundred yards away, were suddenly 
flung wide open, and out marched a mighty host — 
headed by the Bannister Band, blaring furiously. 
The blanket dropped from the hands of the 
paralyzed collegians, and the hapless Hicks was de- 

158 


BANNISTER SHOWS PREXY 


posited on terra firma with a thud, as over two hun- 
dred lusty-Iunged students thundered in chorus : 

“Here’s to dear old Prexy — drink it down ! Drink it down ! 

Here’s to dear old Prexy — drink it down ! Drink it down ! 

Prexy is so kind and good — and we surely wish he 
would 

Let us have the BROTHERHOOD — drink it down! 
Down ! Down 1” 

^^Thafs where everybody was!’’ gasped Butch 
Brewster, setting Hicks on his feet “Oh, you 
marvelous youth — this is your work! It’s great, 
old man, great! We forgive you for your trans- 
gression — why, there’s dear Prexy at his study win- 
dow — Oh, if this parade doesn’t convince him that 
Bannister wants the Brotherhood — but it will, it 
will! 

A tremendous cheer for Prexy went up from the 
marching collegians, as they beheld the beloved, 
white-haired President of Bannister College, gazing 
from the open window of his study on the second 
floor of the Administration Building! Responding 
to Hicks’ posted appeal, Bannister most nobly had 
prepared to “show Prexy” how the campus wanted 
the Brotherhood! 

Following the Bannister Band, a long, serpentine 
line of dancing, singing, or madly howling col- 
legians writhed across the campus. After a time- 
honored tradition of nocturnal parades at Bannister, 


159 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


they wore nightshirts over their regular garb, and 
innumerable blazing torches lighted up the scene, 
while burning red-fire shed a weird, ghastly glow 
on the ghost-like figures of the marchers. Armed 
with every known noise-making device, the clamor- 
ous students paraded around and around the Ad- 
ministration Building, as did the Children of Israel 
encircle beleagured Jericho. 

And — because of the ear-splitting, earth-rocking 
din — it was a modern miracle that the walls of the 
Administration Building failed to fall flat, as did 
those of the Biblical City! The collegians lacked 
trumpets, but they blew raucous blasts on horns, 
pounded a big buzz saw with lengths of iron pipe, 
beat on tin pans, produced an awful clangor with 
cowbells, and disturbed the solar system with their 
indescribable clamor. 

Some bore huge posters and signs, in the form of 
illuminated transparencies, decorated with inspiring 
slogans, painted on white cloth in varied and lurid 
hues. One vast sheet blazed with red letters that 
announced to the campus : 

BANNISTER WANTS THE BIG BROTHER- 
HOOD l—PREXY— PLEASE LET US HAVE THE 
BROTHERHOOD I 

Another, equally garish with a profligacy of vari- 
ous colors, and adorned with high letters, pro- 
claimed : 


i6o 


BANNISTER SHOWS PREXY 


RAH FOR HICKS AND THE BROTHERHOOD! 
THE FRESHMAN REVOLT MUST BE QUELLED 
FOREVER! FOR THE SAKE OF CAMPUS TRA- 
DITION— GIVE BANNISTER THE BROTHER- 
HOOD! 

Other banners, broudly borne by the collegians, 
showed up brilliantly in the glare of the blazing 
torches, and the weird red fire; they bore such 
slogans as: 

BANNISTER FACES A CRISIS! ONLY THE 
BROTHERHOOD CAN SAVE US! 

SHALL THE FRESHMEN RULE THE CAMPUS ? 

HICKS AND THE BIG BROTHERHOOD OF BAN- 
NISTER-FOREVER ! 

BANNISTER ATHLETICS MUST BE SAVED— 
FRESHMAN TRIUMPH MEANS — ATHLETIC 
RUIN! 

THE HONOR OF DEAR OLD BANNISTER IS AT 
STAKE— PREXY— PLEASE GIVE US THE BROTH- 
ERHOOD ! 

But the crowning effort — the masterpiece, both 
of artistic design, and of argumentative influence 
on Doctor Alford’s mind, was an enormous sheet, 
stretched between two poles borne by students 
twenty feet apart. In all the colors of the rainbow, 
and in big letters a foot high, it, blazed forth an 
eternal truth: 

BANNISTER COLLEGE WANTS— “A GOVERN- 
MENT OF THE STUDENTS, FOR THE STUDENTS 
—BY THE STUDENTS!” LINCOLN SAID— “IT 

i6i 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


SHALL NOT PERISH !” PREXY— THE BIG 
BROTHERHOOD OF BANNISTER IS A STEP 
TOWARD— STUDENT SELF-GOVERNMENT ! 

Doctor Alford, leaning from his study window, 
raised his hand. Almost instantly the terrific up- 
roar was stilled, the silence contrasting strangely 
with the deafening uproar of a few seconds before. 
With the red glow gleaming on his white hair, the 
venerable, beloved head of old Bannister gazed 
down on the collegians. His ‘"boys” — he had always 
called the students, and thus affectionately he would 
always know them, when they had gone forth into 
the world. 

At that moment, the mellow chimes of the ’02 1 

o’clock in the library tower sounded, striking 
athwart the stillness, announcing the hour of eight. 

‘‘At eight o’clock, I believe, boys,” spoke Prexy, 
beaming on the assembled collegians below him, “I 
am to grant an interview to the Committee of Fif- , 
teen, in my study! From what I have just heard 
and seen, I am inclined to believe that Bannister ^ 
7 mnts this Brotherhood — therefore, I am eager to * 
know what it is. As you doubtless know, it is my 
great ambition to see Student Government on the 
campus, so — ^your Committee is sure of a hearing. 
Gentlemen, I await you ” 

Pandemonium broke loose! Howling, cheering, : 
or frenziedly shouting, the enthusiastic collegians *1 


BANNISTER SHOWS PREXY 


massed before the Administration Building, and the 
noisy phalanx parted to let the Committee pass 
through, even as did the Red Sea accommodate the 
Children of Israel. Through a lane, bordered on 
both sides with clamorous students, T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., and his Committee strode majestically — 
their faces wore the expression of heroes about to 
do a desperate deed, such as that of a man who 
tries for a seat in a Brooklyn-bound street car at 
6 130 p. M. 

The silent Freshmen, gazing from the windows of 
Creighton, trembled at the mighty demonstration, 
while James Roderick Perkins, looking down on 
the stirring scene, felt an ominous premonition that 
his ‘Votes-for-Freshmen’’ campaign was inevitably 
doomed ! 

The riotous collegians, like a vast wave of hu- 
manity, surged behind the noble Fifteen, sweeping 
the intensely serious Hicks and his colleagues into 
the hallway of the Administration Building! As 
they made their way up the stairs, with the shriek- 
ing hordes swirling at the foot of the stairway, 
shouts of encouragement followed them. 

‘Tor old Bannister, fellows — it’s up to you now, 
Hicks 1” 

“Go to it. Committee — get Prexy’s consent !” 

“The football championship depends on you fel- 
lows, Hicks.” 


163 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


“It’s now or never, Hicks — down with the Fresh- 
men !” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., pausing before the door 
of Doctor Alford’s study, felt his knees shake with 
a quavery sensation similar to stage-fright. But, 
courageous leader that he was, he faced the equally 
perturbed members of the Committee confidently; 

“Now or never, fellows!” he said inspiringly. 
“Let’s make it now! Forward — for dear old Ban- 
nister and the Gold and Green !” 


CHAPTER XIII 

PREXY IS PERSUADED 

I N Prexy’s study, those pachydermic colossi — 
Bull Tucker, Butch Brewster, Babe McCabe, 
Heavy Hughes, Beef McNaughton, Pudge Lang- 
don and Hippopotamus Barrett, felt fully as much 
at ease as a herd of elephants among a collection of 
Dresden china. As bucking a stiff scrimmage line, 
or resisting a catapulted tandem play seemed more 
in their line, they left — at the start, at least — the 
handling of oratory to such polished speakers as 
Doc MacGruder, Peter Tillinghast Kingdon, and T. 
Haviland Hicks, Jr. 

And, as Hippopotamus Barrett afterward re- 
marked, in describing the celebrated interview to 
admiring friends: 

“Gentlemen — we spilled some oratory, of a brand 
that would make the immortal shades of Demos- 
thenes, Cicero, and colleagues turn green with envy. 

13 165 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Our impassioned periods would make the best ef- 
forts of Patrick Henry, Daniel Webster and Will- 
iam Jennings Bryan seem the stammering of a 
schoolboy.” 

Kindly Prexy, seated in the swivel chair at his 
desk, smiled at his ‘‘boys” encouragingly. Remov- 



‘ For some time, ... I have felt that Bannister 
College faces a crisis.’ ” 


ing his spectacles and gesticulating with them, an 
invariable habit of his, the well-beloved President 
of old Bannister addressed the Committee: 

“For some time — ” he began, almost as serious in 
manner as the terribly earnest Committee, “I have 
felt that Bannister College faces a crisis. The defiant 
spirit of the present Freshmen, insubordinate to an 


i66 



PREXY IS PERSUADED 


unheard-of degree, has troubled me — it has spread 
from campus to classroom, inevitably. I must con- 
fess that, in my great ambition to abolish all hazing 
from our college, I did not foresee the consequences 
of doing this so suddenly, without careful study. 

''As your petition states, hazing, undoubtedly an 
abomination and an unjustifiable practice in itself, 
certainly does exercise a beneficial restraint over 
Freshmen — the fear of it governs their conduct, 
and now that it is suddenly removed, they are in a 
state of defiant insurrection. 

"The Faculty does not wish to interfere in student 
life, unless forced to do so. But the present Fresh- 
men insurrection demands immediate action. I be- 
lieve that you have come to present a plan that will 
give relief, an idea that will allow the students to 
solve the problem; I know that you are in earnest, 
that you have Bannister's interests at heart, and I 
am glad that you seek my advice. So — tell me 
about your 'Brotherhood,' and I assure you I shall 
hear it with sincere eagerness." 

That celebrated interview of T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr. and his Committee of Fifteen with Doctor Alford 
has become a glorious epoch in Bannister history, 
a proud campus tradition. First of all, Theophilus 
Opperdyke, nervous and excited, was made eloquent 
by his alma mater’s dire need — he logically and 
clearly outlined the situation, showing the cause of 


167 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


the Freshman revolt. Just as he had done that 
night at Jerry's, after being shanghaied by Hicks 
and Jack Merritt, so the timorous little boner made 
Prexy understand thoroughly the terrible and real 
crisis Bannister faced. 

Then others made impassioned appeals, even the 
football gladiators waxed enthusiastic, showing the 
inevitable effect of James Roderick Perkins' ‘‘ulti- 
matum" on Bannister athletics, the shame their alma 
mater would suffer if the Freshmen triumphed, and 
how other colleges would sneer at Bannister as — 
“the place where the Freshmen run things." As a 
climax, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., originator of the 
Big Idea, took the floor — to present his “Big Broth- 
erhood of Bannister." 

In the wonderfully earnest youth who spoke, in 
graphic, convincing sentences, no one would have 
recognized the erstwhile pestersome Hicks, whom 
his wrathy colleagues had been about to toss in’ a 
blanket. It was not the care-free, indolent Hicks 
of the past, on whose devoted head the indignant 
Butch Brewster so often poured the vials of his 
anger. Fighting for his alma mater, combating the 
malign influence of the powerful, Napoleonic Roddy 
Perkins, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. loomed big in the 
eyes of his enthralled comrades. 

And, in truth, as Shakespeare Sawtelle afterward 
stated, in his editorial in the Bannister Weekly, 


i68 


PREXY IS PERSUADED 


“Justice triumphed!” Doctor Alford, a just, broad- 
minded president, grasped the salient points of the 
situation, and after weighing them carefully, he 
decided in favor of the plaintiff. He saw, first, that 
the grievance of the upper-classmen was great, that 
his own ambition realized — the abolition of haz- 
ing from Bannister, without a beneficial substi- 
tute provided — was the cause of the Freshman de- 
fiance. 

He was impressed by the monster petition for the 
Brotherhood, signed by every collegian — except 
Freshmen — on the campus. He knew that this 
Committee of Fifteen, chosen by the students, was 
made up of collegians who earnestly desired their 
alma mater’s good, who, in athletics, in scholastic 
work, in all phases of student life, put old Bannister 
before personal ambition or glory. A Committee 
with such splendid “college men” as good Bull 
Tucker, grave Parson Parmalee, and other earnest 
youths, could never have failed to impress Doctor 
Alford. 

And, too — the brilliant Hicks had builded his 
Counter Campaign and its climax on a sure foun- 
dation — Prexy’s fondest dream — Student Self-Gov- 
ernment at Bannister. The Brotherhood would be 
a gigantic stride toward that goal. And' — it would 
be the solution of a problem that sorely troubled 
the kindly President — while, the chaos outside 

169 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

proved the sentiment of the campus to be overwhelm- 
ingly for the Brotherhood. 

‘‘We are winning Prexy/’ whispered Doc Mac- 
Gruder, to a joyous Butch Brewster, as kindly Doc- 
tor Alford, arising and walking to the window, 
gazed down at the noisy collegians, still “shoving 
Prexy!’’ “Look at the smile on Doctor Alford's 
face! We win, I tell you, we win " 

At this intensely crucial moment, something hap- 
pened that T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., his Committee, 
or any upper-classman could never have believed 
possible. Perhaps it was because they believed the 
Cause irrevocably lost, or, more probably, they were 
enthused with the Big Brotherhood idea, the Fresh- 
men deserted Roddy Perkins’ Napoleonic standard. 

Of a sudden, a tremendous banner was flung from 
a window of Creighton Hall — stretched taut by 
ropes at its four corners, it luridly announced to 
the campus the Freshman defection from their too- 
ambitious leader, and their support of the Brother- 
hood : 

DOCTOR ALFORD— WE, THE FRESHMAN 
CLASS OF BANNISTER COLLEGE, BY A VOTE 
OF NINETY-FIVE TO THREE— HEREBY DE- 
CLARE OURSELVES IN FAVOR OF THE BROTH- 
ERHOOD ! 

BECAUSE WE— NEXT YEAR— WILL HELP 
WIELD AUTHORITY— AND BECAUSE 1920 
WISHES TO SEE STUDENT-GOVERNMENT AT 


PREXY IS PERSUADED 


BANNISTER BEFORE WE GRADUATE— WE BEG 
THAT YOU SANCTION THE BROTHERHOOD TO- 
NIGHT ! SIGNED— CLASS OF 1920! 

In all likelihood, Doctor Alford’s decision would 
have been favorable, in any event ; however, beyond 
a doubt, the announcement of the Freshmen, in- 
fluenced by several serious-thinking leaders, who 
saw the ‘‘handwriting on the wall,” and felt the 
evil of Roddy’s ambitious rule, vastly helped in the 
right side of the scales. So, while the collegians 
outside went wild at reading the banner of 1920, 
Prexy turned to the v/aiting Committee, and beamed 
on his “boys.” 

“I see no reason, gentlemen — ” he said gently, 
“why this Brotherhood should not be given a fair 
trial at Bannister. But understand, its ultimate suc- 
cess depends wholly on the sincerity of the student- 
body. I have lived to see one ambition realized — 
hazing is a thing of the past — and, perhaps my 
greatest dream will come true, and I shall behold 
Student Government at Bannister College. 

“I ask Mr. Hicks, and the members of this Com- 
mittee, to submit to me as soon as possible, a com- 
plete and final draft of the idea, with rules and by- 
laws, and constitution. We must cooperate, and 
since the Freshmen have made a commendable de- 
cision tonight, I shall follow their example— I shall 
sanction your Brotherhood, and promise it a full 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


and fair trial. Soon, I earnestly hope, Student- 
Government, for which this will be a splendid prep- 
aration, will come to our college.’’ 

A majority of the Committee, unable to restrain 
their joy, shook Doctor Alford’s hand wildly, and 
rushed from the study, to acquaint the waiting col- 
legians with the glad news. Doc MacGruder, how- 
ever, demonstrated his power to think and act 
quickly by leaning from the window, and howling, 
in a foghorn voice: 

‘‘It’s a go, fellows, ifs a go! Prexy has given his 
sanction! Celebrate the victory, everybody — make 
a noise 1 ’Rah for Hicks !” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., with Theophilus Opper- 
dyke and good Butch Brewster, remained to thank 
Doctor Alford for his decision. The triumphant 
triumvirate were about to leave the study when 
Prexy, who had been glancing over the rules of the 
Brotherhood, checked their progress. 

“Oh, Mr. Hicks — ” he spoke, waving his specta- 
cles with his left hand, “This Rule Ten — concern- 
ing the Freshman Decalogue — the ten laws to be 
posted by Sophomores for Freshman conduct — I 
see nothing to object to in the other rules, but this 


Dismayed, Theophilus Opperdyke and Butch 
Brewster stared at the serene Hicks. Butch re- 
membered his sunny comrade’s confident prediction, 

172 


PREXY IS PERSUADED 


made a brief time before — “Oh, just leave it to 
me — I’ll persuade Prexy to agree, all right, for to 
the class of ’19, that is the most important rule of 
them all.” Now, he pondered — how would he “put 
it across ?” • 

“Doctor — ” said Hicks, seriously, “just think of 
what we Sophomores have lost — the fun of hazing. 
I don’t mean to defend the practice, but — since it 
is abolished, we have absolutely no means of having 
any sport with the Freshmen, innocent fun. We 
voluntarily foreswore hazing, and helped drive it 
from the campus — it was wrong, of course, but — 
some of it was harmless, and we would have en- 
joyed it. 

“Don’t you feel that something is due us Sopho- 
mores? Now, these ten laws of the Decalogue, 
which will be submitted to you first for approval, 
will be for the good of the Freshmen, for the de- 
velopment of character. One or two of them may 
be ridiculous, just to show our authority as Sopho- 
mores over them. And, sir — ^the Freshmen want 
Poster Day — they will submit, because they want 
to make the Decalogue next year. We want to 
make it a Bannister tradition — and truly. Doctor — 
the rules will be enforced, and they will keep the 
Freshmen straight. 

“It’s just fun, sir — with rules that are beneficial 
to the first-year fellows. If you can let us have 


173 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Poster Day, as a sort of recompense for losing a 
lot' of sport by giving up hazing ’’ 

Doctor Alford’s eyes twinkled. He had not been 
Prexy for twenty years without knowing boy-nature 
thoroughly, and without having a keen sympathy 
with it. Since there was no harm in allowing 1919 
to inaugurate the custom of Poster Day, making 
the Freshmen stick up the posters containing the 
Decalogue for their conduct, and since the Freshmen 
themselves were eager for it, he had no desire to 
rob the Sophomores of all their innocent fun at the 
expense of first-year collegians. Then, too, good 
laws, enforced by the authority and majesty of the 
Brotherhood, undoubtedly would benefit the Fresh- 
men. 

‘'Well, let it pass the censor, then — ” he smiled 
humorously, “understand, I shall simply allow Rule 
Ten to be approved, along with the rest. It is prob- 
able that the Freshmen, seeing the Brotherhood and 
the Faculty countenance this rule, will submit — 
especially, as you say, because they look forward to 
it next year. But, Hicks — if they do resist^ then 
the Faculty, of course, and the Brotherhood, can not 
enforce Rule Ten.” 

“Thank you, Doctor,” grinned Hicks happily. 
“You mean — T9 can go ahead with the Decalogue 
and Poster Day, taking a very safe chance that the 
Freshmen, because the Rule has not been censored 


174 


PREXY IS PERSUADED 


by you, and because they want to enforce it next 
year, will submit. All right ; we don’t anticipate any 
difficulty, for the desire to wield authority is too 
strong in them.” 

Once in the corridor, with the door of Prexy’s 
study closed, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. faced his exub- 
erant comrades and grinned at the hilarious Butch 
Brewster, who was literally beside himself with joy, 

“I told you so. Butch — ” he stated, modestly, “I 
said — ‘Just leave it to me!’ How about putting 
Rule Ten across, fellows? Now for Poster Day, 
and the Freshman Decalogue !” 


CHAPTER XIV 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 

W HEN T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., Butch Brew- 
ster, and Theophilus Opperdyke — an excit- 
edly happy trio — rushed downstairs and out of the 
Administration Building, they paused suddenly on 
the steps, for a great surprise awaited them. The 
campus, so lately the scene of tremendous chaos and 
turmoil, was now deserted and silent. 

Not a collegian was to be seen, except a few 
Freshmen at the windows of Creighton ! Except for 
the glare of the arc lights, there was no illumination 
of flaring torches, of burning red-fire — the shouting, 
turbulent horde of students, with their noise-making 
devices, their flamboyant banners, their appeals — 
both silent and clamorous for the Brotherhood, had 
disappeared, and the usual quietude of study hour 
reigned supreme. 

“Hello!” exclaimed a startled Butch Brewster, 
176 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 


“What does this mean, Hicks ? There was a myste- 
rious silence before our interview, but that was ex- 
plained by the parade, forming on Bannister Field. 
And, luckily for you, it appeared in the offing just 
in time to save you from violence.” 

“I can’t understand — ” responded the puzzled 
Hicks, “they don’t seem a bit glad, Butch. Well, 
my Counter Campaign is at an end, and Bannister 
has triumphed over that youthful Napoleon of the 
campus — James Roderick Perkins. We’ll have no 
more trouble with the Freshmen, for look how they 
deserted Roddy’s standard tonight, and declared for 
the Brotherhood!” 

“I — I don’t know what has struck the fellows,” 
quavered Theophilus, deeply hurt that the collegians 
were not rioting for Hicks, and making a colossal 
demonstration for the idol of the hour — T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr. “But, Hicks, you know they must be 
glad. Why, now the Freshmen will try for the 
teams, and old Bannister has a chance for the State 
Football Championship! But I don’t see ” 

At that instant the phenomenon of the campus 
silence was explained. Out on Bannister Field, 
cleaving the Stygian darkness like a flaring comet, 
and ascending with a mighty roar, a skyrocket 
soared upward, leaving a trail of sparks behind. 
Another followed, searing the inky blackness of 
night with a lurid red scar — then a wonderful pyro- 


1/7 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

technic display broke loose ; skyrockets, Roman 
candles, “Bombs, bursting in air,” shedding constel- 
lations of vari-colored stars, filled the atmosphere 
with color. 

Gorgeous pin-wheels whirled on the fence, giant 
firecrackers exploded with ominous “booms” ; mighty 
charges of powder went off with a terrific roar, and 
— as though the first sizzling rocket had been a 
signal — the mysterious silence was suddenly trans- 
formed into a bedlam, a riot of noise. It far ex- 
ceeded the demonstration on the campus, for it had, 
in addition to all the former chaos, the detonations 
of exploding powder. And, above the ear-splitting 
uproar, the three dazed collegians on the Administra- 
tion Building steps heard shouts of: 

“HICKS! Where is — Hicks f Fellows, we must 
have HICKS !” 

“ ’Rah ! ’Rah !— ’Rah ! ’Rah I ’Rah ! Hicks I Hicks ! 
Hicks!” 

“Three cheers for Hicks and The Big Brother- 
hood of Bannister!” 

“What’s the matter with HICKS — HE’S ALL 
RIGHT !” 

By the light of the brilliant fireworks, now ex- 
ploding incessantly, filling the air with gorgeous 
hues, with showers of sparks, and clouds of smoke, 
the three collegians beheld — in the middle of Ban- 
nister Field, what seemed a modern Tower of Babel. 


178 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 


A towering structure, built of boxes, barrels, sec- 
tions of fence, logs, and various other material, 
commandeered from a radius of a mile, reared up- 
ward to a dizzy height — a dark shadow in the ra- 
diance of the scintillating sparks. 

“A bonfire!” breathed Butch Brewster, clutching 
Hicks’ arm. “That’s why the fellows were so still, 
old man — it’s a surprise for you! As soon as they 
find you, they’ll light that oil-soaked pile, which has 
a lot of tar barrels in it, and — what a mighty con- 
flagration there will be!” 

“And a speech from me — !” shivered T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., with the abhorrence of the truly great for 
publicity and adulation. “Here’s where I beat a 
retreat, fellows, and go into hiding until dawn’s 
early light! I don’t want them to make a fuss 
over me — Bannister is saved, the Freshmen are 
quelled, and that’s enough. So long. I’m on my 
way ” 

But big Butch Brewster, with a grin, tightened 
his grip, and Hicks was stayed, a helpless prisoner. 
As the blithesome youth was about to struggle and 
protest volubly, the chaos on Bannister Field — ^which 
far exceeded that of the Roman mob after Mr. 
Mark Anthony’s oration over the defunct Mr. Julius 
Caesar, or the turmoil of the frenzied French hordes 
at the storming of the Bastile, suddenly stilled. In 
the glare of the flaming torches, relighted, they saw 


179 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


the elongated figure of Doc MacGruder, standing 
majestically on a big box. 

The philosophical Senior, who would rather make 
a speech than even to partake of a repast down at 
Jerry’s, surveyed the assembled collegians a mo- 
ment, then unloosed the flow of his oratory : 

“Friends, Fellows, and — Brothers! Lend me your 
ears — I want to make an ear-resistible appeal to 
you. I come — not to bury Hicks, but to praise him ! 
The good men do is too oft interred with their 
bones — not so with Hicks, his good shall live after 
him — at old Bannister! Friends, I can not say 
too much in praise of the hero of the hour, T. Havi- 
land Hicks, Jr. ” 

“Oh, yes, you can, Doc!” shouted a collegian, 
knowing the Senior’s propensity for speechifying, 
but his jeer was lost in a thunderous roar from Bull 
Tucker : 

“Fellows— -WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH 
HICKS?” 

“HE’S ALL RIGHT!”— the response was 
roared from three hundred lusty lungs, and the 
gratified Bull continued the query: 

“WHO’S ALL RIGHT?” 

Like a mighty, inundating wave, the billow of 
sound swept across Bannister Field, across the 
campus, washing up to the three students on the 
steps of the Administration Building; 

i8o 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 


^^mCKSl HICKS! HICKS! HE’S ALL 
RIGHT!” 

''Fellows” — boomed Doc MacGruder, wrathful 
at having his thunder so brazenly stolen, "tonight — 
history has been made at Bannister College. Our 
alma mater faced a crisis, ominous peril leered at 
her — Tradition tottered on its ancient throne. A 
Napoleon of the Freshmen sought to defy law and 
order, to create a campus chaos, to set up his em- 
pire. There has been a cosmic upheaval, and dire 
calamity has threatened our beloved college. But — 
as Thomas Carlyle said, in other words — the need 
arose, the hour cried for the Man, and the Man 
of the Hour stepped forward — Thomas Haviland 
Hicks, Jr. 

"Brothers — for, after tonight, we are all Brothers. 
— what is this demonstration without Hicks? We 
celebrate his triumph over Freshman insurrection, 
and he is not here. It is a Presidential Inaugura- 
tion without the President, Hamlet, with the Ham 
left out. At once — let us find Hicks. Produce the 
great Hicks, let us have a speech from the man of 
the hour — Hicks. Away, search the campus, seek 

— and find our Hicks and ” 

"HERE HE IS!” Big Butch Brewster, basely 
betraying his sunny comrade, clutched the kicking, 
struggling Hicks firmly, and lifted his mighty voice, 
while Theophilus Opperdyke’s shrill cry aided the 

13 i8i 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

rushing collegians to locate the creator of the 
Brotherhood. 

‘‘You traitor!’’ raged the frenzied Hicks, punting 
and dropkicking futilely at Butch’s shins, while 
Theophilus danced around them, and brazenly de- 
clared that his friend must make a speech. “I’ll get 
both of you for this dastardly deed — I’ll have r-r- 
revenge — just you wait. I’ll ” 

Then a vast wave of humanity surged down on 
them, Hicks, Butch and Theophilus were caught up, 
borne aloft on Herculean shoulders, and — amid a 
tumult of shouting and singing, they were carried 
in triumph to Bannister Field, to the immense bon- 
fire, as yet unlighted. His two betrayers were set 
on the ground, but the luckless Hicks felt himself 
hoisted to the box, which served as an oratorical 
rostrum — seeing that escape was hopeless, the 
happy-go-lucky youth grinned at his plight, and 
strove to think up an appropriate “speech.” 

“All ready, fellows!” called Bull Tucker, waving 
his torch, “light ’er up! We’ve corralled a lot of 
tar and oil barrels, and we’ll have a bonfire that will 
make the San Francisco blaze resemble a lighted 
match. One — two — three — FIRE !” 

With blazing torches applied at innumerable 
points, the oil-soaked structure soon became a sheet 
of lurid flame. With a savage roar, tongues of fire 
licked upward, uniting in a colossal wave that arose 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 


thirty feet above the pile. The collegians, deter- 
mined to be prepared in case Prexy did consent, and 
deciding that they could use the material and fire- 





‘ Speech ! Speech I Speech / ’ ’ 

183 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

works to celebrate some other triumph, if the 
Brotherhood failed, had assembled the mightiest 
bonfire ever witnessed at old Bannister. 

''Speech! Speech! Speech T chanted the elated 
youths, as the pile became a seething, hissing holo- 
caust, and a red glow overspread the campus, 
casting the college buildings into a bold relief. 
‘‘Speech — Hicks! Tell us all about it, old man! 
’Rah for Hicks, and the Brotherhood. Speech! 
Speech!” 

With a look of pretended wrath at little Theophil- 
us, who had been crowded near the box on which 
Hicks stood, the care-free Sophomore, his old-deb- 
onair self again, now that the crisis was safely 
passed, grinned at the waiting audience. With his 
face illuminated by the lurid glow from the blazing 
bonfire, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., spoke: 

“Fellows — ” he began, then hesitated, for a 
troublesome lump came suddenly in his throat, “I 
mean — Brothers, diS Doc said — I can’t make any 
speech. I can only do as Captain Bull Tucker did 
one time, when Bannister beat Ballard in football. 
Asked for a speech. Bill hemmed and hawed, and 
then blurted out, ‘Well, fellows — we beat ’em !’ That 
is what we have done to the Freshmen tonight — we 
have ‘Beat ’em!’ And ” 

“Down with Roddy Perkins and the Freshmen!” 
howled an excited collegian, but instantly the blithe- 


184 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 


some Hicks became serious, and raised his hand for 
silence. 

“Don’t say that, boys !’’ he urged. “We have won 
our fight, and succeeded in getting Prexy to let us 
have the Brotherhood. Everybody has done his 
part — ^you signed the petition, you showed Prexy 
tonight how you wanted it. The Committee con- 
vinced Doctor Alford that the Brotherhood is a 
splendid thing for Bannister, but 

“Don’t forget its principle — fraternity. We 
three upper-classes are Big Brothers to the Fresh- 
men. That is the basis of the whole organization. 
We are to help them, to benefit them, to shape their 
characters for the right. We must save them from 
temptation, and keep them from evil. So — don’t 
say ‘Down with the Freshmen !’ Rather — ‘Up’ with 
them. Remember — they were misled by a too-am- 
bitious youth — tonight, they deserted his standard, 
and declared for the Brotherhood. 

“And don’t be too hard on Roddy. His bulldog 
nature would not allow him to let go. He knew he 
was wrong, but he had to set his teeth, like a bull- 
dog, and stick. Now he is beaten, .he will do right 
— and, Bannister needs bulldog fellows, headed 
right. Think of that never-give-up spirit on the 
scrimmage line for the Gold and Green, or fighting 
down the homestretch in a track race — will it win 
for our alma mater f Don’t condemn Roddy, boys — 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


stand by, and help him get that bulldog grip on 
things worth zvhile” 

‘‘Rah! Rah! — Rah! Rah! Rah! Roddy! Roddy! 
Roddy!’’ a thunderous cheer for the defeated Fresh- 
man chieftain split the air. 

“And now, fellows — ” concluded Hicks, “let’s 
forget this past chaos, and all of us — Freshmen, 
Sophomores, Juniors and Seniors — get together. 
Next comes the State Football Championship, and 
— Bannister must win it! Now for the fighting, 
scrub team, to make our ‘Varsity eleven a winner.’ 
Now for the fellows who don’t play to turn out and 
root at every practice. Forget the past, fellows, and 
pull together, for the dear old Gold and Green.” 

In the indescribable tumult that followed, the 
flames of the roaring bonfire seemed to leap higher, 
as in response to Hicks’ eloquent appeal. While the 
excited collegians cheered wildly, this most popular 
student at Bannister College, the Hero of the cam- 
pus, the Idol of the Hour, stood — gazing happily at 
the stirring scene. Suddenly, seeing little Theophil- 
us Opperdyke, at the edge of the box, staring up at 
him with a worshipful expression, a look of fiendish 
exultation adorned Hicks’ classic countenance. 

“Fellows — ” he shouted, and almost at once the 
shouting and the tumult died, “Fellows ^ — I don’t 
deserve the glory, the credit for this Brotherhood. 
You, Jack Merritt, know to whom it should go. 


i86 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 


Remember that night, down at Jerry’s, when a cer- 
tain Sophomore outlined the remedy for Bannister’s 
trouble? Brothers — the basic idea of our Brother- 
hood came from the brain of one who must now ad- 
dress you. All the glory for originating it goes to 
— Theophilus Opperdyke. Speech ! Speech — 
Theophilus — speech r 

Chuckling at the expression of tragic horror that 
overspread Theophilus’ face, and gloating at his re- 
venge, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., leaped down from 
the box. He lingered long enough to behold the 
trembling boner lifted to the rostrum, where he 
stood, his knees knocking together, and his lips re- 
fusing to utter a sound, then he pushed his way 
through the crowd, and hurried toward the campus. 

‘‘Wait, you incorrigible villain — ” Butch Brew- 
ster, shaking with laughter, caught up with the 
fugitive, “I fled, Hicks, when I saw how you re- 
venged yourself on poor Theophilus. But why the 
haste — your ordeal is over, you made a fine speech, 
and ” 

“Come along, Butch!” responded the blithesome 
Hicks, “I want you. We are now going to visit 
James Roderick Perkins, the erstwhile Freshman 
lion, in his den. You wait in the Quad, while I 
chase up to my room — I have a slight token of con- 
dolence for our fallen hero.” 

Mystified, when the Quadrangle was reached, 

187 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

and wondering what the bewildering Hicks was up 
to now, big Butch Brewster was forced to wait but 
a few seconds, before his sunny comrade rejoined 
him. Then, in silence, for the 1919 leader smilingly 
refused to answer any queries, though he had noth- 
ing in his hands for Roddy, the two Sophomores 
crossed to Creighton Hall, entered, and made their 
way to the Freshman chieftain’s room. 

In the corridor, the mysterious Hicks halted, and 
held up his hand for silence. The door of Roddy’s 
room was ajar, and they saw — standing before the 
study-table, the Napoleonic youth — in his hand was 
a book, which he was holding up to the gaze of 
Hefty Hollingsworth and Biff Pemberton, whose 
expressions were lugubriously solemn. 

‘‘Well, fellows — ” said Roddy, his voice break- 
ing, ‘‘it’s all over. Hicks has beaten me — fairly. 
My great ambition is shattered — my dream of 
Freshman Equal Rights is broken. My friends — 
my own classmates, deserted me tonight, when that 
demonstration broke loose — they declared for the 
Brotherhood — the only thing that could defeat me/' 

“But, Roddy — ” spoke Hefty, very gently, “you 
were wrong! You realize it, for you confessed it 
to us. We did not desert yon, old man, but your 
misguided standard. You are still our leader — ^the 
fellows want you to lead ’20, but — we want our 
class to stand for what is right.” 


188 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 


“Do they, Hefty?” Roddy’s handsome face, for 
a moment, was transformed by his irresistible smile. 
“Honest, old man? Then listen — I’ll lead, and I’ll 
lead old ’20 for the right. I know I was wrong, 
fellows — my whole idea was dangerous — it isn’t 
right, and never can be, for Freshmen to be equal 
with upper-classmen. But, once I started my votes- 
for-Freshmen fight, I wanted to win it — Oh, I 
limited to put something big across. I just could 
not quit, until every hope was killed, fellows.” 

“We understand — ” interposed Biff, sympathetic- 
ally. “It’s your nature, Roddy, never to give up un- 
til the last ditch is lost. Now, just turn that bulldog 
spirit of yours to old Bannister’s good, and ” 

“I’ll do it — I’ll do it!” shouted Roddy, hurling 
the book across the room. “There — it’s ‘The Life 
of Napoleon!’ — I’m done with him, hear — done 
with him. From now on, fellows, I shall fight — 
not for my glory, for my ambitions, but for my 
alma mater. I’ll strive to make old ’20 the finest 
class of all, because we shall work for Bannister. 
And I— I ” 

Suddenly, to the bewilderment of his classmates, 
and the startled surprise of the listening Sopho- 
mores in the corridor, James Roderick Perkins hesi- 
tated, choked, then flung himself down at the 
study- table, and buried his face in his arms. Not 
until that tragic moment did T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., 

189 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


realize just how much the ambitious Freshman’s 
overwhelming ambition had meant to him, and how 
bitter was his hour of defeat. 

‘‘Oh, it hurts!'' groaned Roddy, clenching his 
hands in agony. “It hurts, I was wrong — dead 
wrong — and I’m glad Hicks beat me — glad, for 
myself, my class, and my college. But — I wanted 
to win, to put the Big Idea across — Oh, fellows, you 
can't understand, but ” 

He could say no more. Utterly crushed by his 
defeat, even though in that tragic hour he realized 
it was for the best, the fierce fire of his ambition 
quenched, James Roderick Perkins, the Freshman 
who had tried to imitate Napoleon, sobbed aloud. 

“Come, Butch — ” whispered Hicks, an ache in 
his throat, and a mist before his eyes, for he under- 
stood, “leave him alone — in his sorrow. This is his 
bitter hour, but it is good for him. He sees things 
clearly now, for he has that ‘clear vision,’ and all 
is well, but — it hurts — now.’^ 

So, leaving the heartbroken youth with his 
friends, with his terrible sorrow, they tip-toed down 
the corridor. As they started down the stairs, they 
saw Biff Pemberton and Hefty Hollingsworth 
come softly from the room — they, too, understood 
— alone, amid his shattered dreams and broken 
ambitions, they left James Roderick Perkins, with 
the fragments of his Napoleonic aims. The future 


NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO 


held everything for him, the making of his charac- 
ter, helped by the sympathetic collegians — it held 
splendid opportunities for him to serve his alma 
mater, but now 

And so Roddy Perkins, on the threshold of his 
college course, at the turning of the ways, when one 
step in the wrong direction meant the ruin of a 
mighty character, was saved. He was both a 
dreamer and a doer, and misguided dreamers are 
dangerous. With his tremendous power to conceive 
stupendous things, his marvelous ability to execute 
them — his dreaming of glory for self, of achieve- 
ments for fame, might have made him, later in life, 
a menace to his fellow-men. Of dangerous dream- 
ers come Anarchists, whose distorted brains and fe- 
vered imaginations shape up colossal things — of evil. 

But, now, his great ambition crushed, his head- 
long career stayed, when Success spelled “ruin” to 
his character, Roddy Perkins — with his splendid 
bulldog spirit, his “never-say-die” nature, was 
turned back, his feet were placed on the right road. 
In that bitter hour, he became a man, and from 
then on, those dangerous qualities of his impetuous 
nature combined to give him manhood. It was the 
real beginning of his college course, after a terribly 
false start, and the youth who might have been 
wrecked by ambition, became a true “son of old 
Bannister,” of whom his alma mater was proud. 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘'Oh, Butch — ’’ said T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., as 
they stood in the Quadrangle again, “Fve done a 
hig deed, a far bigger one than putting the Brother- 
hood across, bigger even than saving Bannister 
from Freshman revolt, or sparing athletics. I have 
saved a wonderful fellow from his worse self. We 
must stand by him. Butch, and help him to make 
good. It was a crisis in his life, and, in fighting 
for Bannister, I kept him from wrecking his career. 
I’m so glad — glad 

“You are right, Hicks!” choked great, big-hearted 
Butch Brewster. “Roddy is a mighty fine fellow, 
and had he succeeded in that crazy ‘votes-for-Fresh- 
men’ idea, he would have been ruined. But — what 
was that slight token of condolence you had for 
him?” 

Hicks was silent a moment. Then, with that 
heart-warming smile of his, the sunny-natured 
youth drew something from under his coat — seem- 
ingly a rectangle of blank cardboard, and held it up 
before the astonished Butch’s eyes. 

“I just couldn’t give it to him. Butch — ” he 
grinned, “not after he broke down. But, old chap, 
don’t you think it would have been most appropriate 
to the occasion? Look ” 

He reversed the cardboard, and then — Butch 
Brewster understood. It was a picture, entitled, 
“Napoleon at Waterloo.” 


192 


CHAPTER XV 

HICKS ‘'“'dressed in A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY''’ 

T HAVILAND hicks, JR. is so slow—” 
• declared Beef McNaughton, emphatically, 
“that a tortoise with paralysis in all four feet could 
give him a handicap of fifty yards in a hundred 
yard dash, and then beat Hicks so far to the tape 
that a letter to him would require four dollars post- 
age !” 

“Right, Beef,” agreed little Sheet Wigglesworth 
solemnly. “Hicks must have promised someone that 
he would never be on time, and since he has been 
at Bannister, anyway — he has never broken that 
promise.” 

“The only event in his career — ” concluded big 
Pudge Langdon, with the utmost gravity, “at which 
the irrepressible Hicks will appear on time will be 
his — funeral ! And it would not startle me a bit to 
read that it had to be delayed, because he was late.” 


193 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

It was eight o’clock, one night a week after that 
occasion — destined to become famous in Bannister 
history — when Prexy had sanctioned the Brother- 
hood, and the triumphant climax of T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr.’s Counter Campaign had crushed the too- 
ambitious Roddy Perkins. Since that memorable 
hour, when Freshman insurrection was stamped out 
beneath the iron heel of upper-class authority. Doctor 
Alford and the Committee of Fifteen had perfected 
the constitution and by-laws of the organization, 
and the Big Brotherhood of Bannister had been 
launched on its successful existence. 

Each class had elected its representatives to the 
Big Brothers’ Council, upper-classmen were making 
inspections in Creighton Hall, and, in brief, the 
Faculty had turned over to the Brotherhood the 
government of the first-year class. Perhaps the 
most remarkable development of all was the strange 
attitude of the Freshmen — a trifle over a week be- 
fore, they had been riotously insubordinate, but now 
— their desire to be ruled, their readiness to ac- 
cede to the laws of the Brotherhood, was almost 
pathetic. 

And the explanation thereof — in itself a tribute to 
the brilliant human nature reading of Thomas Havi- 
land Hicks, Jr., lay in his own statement, made be- 
fore the interview with Prexy — ‘‘The desire to wield 
authority is the predominant trait of all humanity.” 


194 


A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY 


That trait aroused Bannister tO’ the enthusiastic 
support of Hicks’ Big Idea — it moved the Freshmen 
to declare for the Brotherhood, and now — it swayed 
them to obedience. 

In T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.’s cozy den had gathered 
a number of Sophomores, while the corridors of 
Smithson were crowded with members of 1919. 
Down in the Quadrangle, obedient to posted orders, 
the Freshman class had gathered, while from the 
windows of Nordyke and Bannister, impatient Jun- 
iors and Seniors alternately shouted for ‘‘Hicks,” 
and jeered boisterously at the delay with loud 
shouts : 

“Come on with the Big Show — we thought this 
was Poster Day!” 

“Poster Night — you mean! It will be Post- 
poned, fellows!” 

“Always give Hicks an hour of grace — he’s never 
on time.” 

“He would rather be late than President! Start 
something, ’19!” 

“Hear that?” demanded Cherub Challoner, of the 
Sophomores in Hicks’ room, who would have indeed 
been deaf, had he not heard the sarcastic comments 
hurled into the Quadrangle. “Listen — I’ll read you 
Hicks’ bulletin to the Freshmen — I found it tram- 
pled on the steps of Creighton, so I brought it with 
me ! Listen 


19s 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


^TOSTER DAY! ANNOUNCEMENT TO FRESH- 
MEN ! READ AND— HEED 
‘Tromptly at 8 p.m. Monday night, all Freshmen must 
assemble, in orderly manner, in the Quadrangle ! At 
that hour the Sophomore Poster Day Committee will be 
present, with the posters of The Freshman Decalogue I 
**Each Freshman will be requird to paste one Poster in 
the place assigned him 1 This Poster will contain the 
TEN LAWS for the conduct of the Freshmen! These 
Laws must be obeyed ! All infractions of them will be 
reported to the Big Brothers^ Council ! This marks the 
inauguration of POSTER DAY, which will become a 
Bannister tradition — Next year it will be your time to 
frame the Decalogue ! Signed — T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., 
— Chairman of Sophomore Poster Day Committee.'^ 

‘Tretty clever!’’ grinned Don Carterson, an ath- 
letic youth. ‘‘Don’t you see how diplomatically 
Hicks has swayed the Freshmen? He has made 
them all say to each other — ‘Next year, we get up 
the Decalogue, we have elaborate posters printed, we 
make the Freshmen post them! So — we’ll do what 
’19 tells us now, and next year — ’ Oh, he is a poli- 
tician, all right!” 

“Why isn’t he here?” demanded Pudge, wrath- 
fully. “He, with Butch and Ichabod, went down 
to the station to meet the seven-forty-five express 
from Philadelphia! The printers wired Hicks at 
noon that the posters would be sent on that train — 
he was about to postpone Poster Day! The train 
was on time, and here it is after eight — suppose they 
didn’t send the posters, and ” 

196 


A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY 


A loud commotion in the Quadrangle, followed 
by upper-class shouts of — “Hicks, all hail — Hicks !” 
interrupted his tirade; Pudge, Beef, Skeet, Cherub,, 
and Don — all rushed to the windows, to behold a 
marvelous sight — pushing a handcart into the Quad- 
rangle, under the driveway arch, loaded with twO' 
big bundles, came the missing 1919 triumvirate! 
That is — Butch furnished the locomotive power,' 
while Hicks and the lengthy Ichabod staggered with 
long-handled brushes, and buckets of paste ! 

But — the three collegians were attired in overalls ! 
At least, Hicks and the embarrassed Butch wore this 
grotesque garb, while the awkward Ichabod had 
donned what are called jumpers — at sight of the 
trio, shouts of wild laughter broke out, and the 
upper-classmen grew riotous, jeering 

“ — we don’t want any paper-hanging done to- 
night, thank you !” 

“Behold — the Honest Workingman! ’Rah for 
the Full Dinner-pail!” 

“They aren’t paperhangers — ^they will, white- 
wash Bannister!” 

“What a clever disguise — no one could possiblyr 
recognize them !” 

Issuing orders to the Freshmen to wait — some- 
thing in which they were rapidly becoming proficient 
— Hicks, assisted by his aides, carried the buckets 
of paste, the brushes, and the two bundles, into 


14 


197 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Smithson, and up to his room. Here he was greeted 
with wild indignation by his colleagues, who scath- 
ingly compared his speed with that of a snail, a tor- 
toise, and an ice wagon, until Butch Brewster spoke 

in his toothpick comrade’s defence 

^‘Shut up!” he requested. ‘‘You fellows want the 
Committee to do it all! Nobody thought of paste 
and brushes, so we had to stop at the paperhanger’s 
and have some mixed ! And, of course, we just had 

to take a peep at the Decalogue posters, for ” 

“Aren’t they lovely?” T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., 
'the Master of-ceremonies, had opened one bundle, 
and unrolling the posters, he held one up for the in- 
spection of his admiring classmates. The Poster 
was five feet long, and two feet wide — and printed 
in three lurid colors, in big letters that could be read 
with ease some feet away! It was a work of art, 
:and with shouts of joy, the enraptured Sophomores 
crowded around, to pick out one of the Decalogue 
posters for close examination. 

The Poster — approved by the Brotherhood — read 
as follows : 

TEN LAWS FOR CAMPUS, CLASSROOM, DORMI- 
TORY, AND DOWNTOWN CONDUCT OF 
ALL FRESHMEN! READ— AND OBEY! 

I. EVERY FRESHMAN must be in his room for all 
inspections — be on time to chapel, meals, and recitations, 
and not be absent from the campus except during the 

198 


A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY 


hours in which this is allowed — without valid excuse to 
the Big Brothers’ Council. 

2. EVERY FRESHMAN must attend chapel services 
in the morning — absences must be explained to the Coun- 
cil within two days. 

3. EVERY FRESHMAN must attend church at least 
once on Sunday. 

4. NO FRESHMAN shall, at any time, use tobacco or 
intoxicants in any form whatsover, or indulge in pro- 
fanity ! The Council will deal severely with all violations 
of this rule ! 

5. FRESHMEN must pay promptly their Athletic As- 
sociation and Literary Society dues — by October 15th of 
each year. 

6. FRESHMEN must — .when addressing Sophomores 
and Upper-classmen — say, “Mr.” and when spoken to 
answer, “Sir!” 

7. FRESHMEN must be neat and tidy in their appear- 
ance at all times, and maintain strict order in their rooms 
and dormitory. 

8. FRESHMEN must at all times be respectful toward 
all Sophomores and Upper-classmen, and must raise their 
caps whenever meeting a member of the Faculty. 

9. EVERY FRESHMAN — until May i, must wear a 
red cap with a green button — to be given him by the 
Sophomores — always when he goes downtown, and to all 
athletic contests on Bannister Field. 

10. EACH FRESHMAN shall post a Poster — o'f this 
Freshman Decalogue, at the time and place designated by 
the Sophomores — said occasion to be known as POSTER 
DAY! 

THESE LAWS go into effect immediately upon the 
posting of them, and hold good until May i. All infrac- 
tions of laws will be reported to the Big Brothers’ Council. 


199 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Signed — T. Haviland Hicks' Jr., Chairman of Sopho- 
more Poster Day Committee. 

Counter-signed — Butch Brewster 

Theophilus Opperdyke 
Beef McNaughton 
Pudge Langdon 
Don Carterson 
Chub Chalmers 

— Members of Committee. 

For several minutes the enraptured Sophomores 
feasted their eyes on the flamboyant poster, agree- 
ing with Keats that — ''A thing of beauty is a joy 
forever!’’ Then, the incessant howling and shout- 
ing of the impatient upper-classmen aroused them to 
a sense of duty, and Hicks opened the other bundle, 
disclosing — red caps with green buttons on the top. 

‘‘We’ll ‘cap the climax’ fellows!” he grinned. 
“Come — we must inaugurate Poster Day with ap- 
propriate speeches and ceremonies ! Everyone look 
as solemn as possible ! Ready — forward march !” 

A mighty cheer from the upper-classmen greeted 
the Sophomores, as they poured from Smithson, into 
the Quadrangle. Anxious to see the sport, the hi- 
larious Juniors and Seniors rushed downstairs and 
out of their dormitories, so that the Quadrangle was 
soon packed with collegians. T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., raised at his request to the broad shoulders of 
Pudge Langdon, addressed the multitude : 

“Freshmen: This is a momentous occasion! 


200 


A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY 


Tonight we inaugurate Poster Day, and your class 
has the honor of being first to post the Freshman 
Decalogue. Think of the Juniors and Seniors who 
will never get to frame this Poster! Even 1919, be- 
cause we are pioneers, can only set an example, and 
next year, your class will have a chance to eclipse 
our efforts. 

“Each Freshman, as his name is called, will take 
a poster, a brush, and some paste — ^he will stick the 
poster on the place designated by the Committee. 
Your leader, James Roderick Perkins, will come last, 
as we have a special spot selected for his poster. 
Now, let us to work — march out on the campus, 
near the Gymnasium — wait, first, we must adorn 
you with the red caps.” 

Shouts of gleeful joy went up from the upper- 
classmen, as the Freshmen were presented with the 
lurid head-covering! As soon as every first-year 
student had been decorated with the Order of the 
Red Cap, the Sophomores, singing loudly their 
class song, escorted their victims from the Quad- 
rangle, amid a tumult of noise. 

As the Freshmen, entirely good-natured, jocu- 
larly walked in “lock-step” from the Quadrangle, 
with the Sophomores marching beside them, and 
the exuberant upper-classmen skylarking in the rear, 
big Butch Brewster, who, with Beef McNaughton, 
strode along with the festive Hicks, growled : 


201 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


‘‘Don’t get too rambunctious, old man! What 
wild idea is that of yours — to hold Roddy’s poster 
until last? Where will you make him stick it?” 

“Butch,” responded Hicks, blithesomely, “remem- 
ber Shakespeare’s quotation — ‘Man, dressed in a 
little brief authority, parades such tricks before the 
high heavens as make the angels weep!’ Well, I — 
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. — am clothed thusly tonight! 
Just substitute Hicks for ‘man’ in that, and ” 

“Not a fair substitution!” objected Beef, humor- 
ously. “It would require several of you, Hicks, to 
make one man ! But — beware how you dress in that 
brief authority — ^you might not get enough clothes 
on, and then you will get into trouble ! Anyway, if 
you are dressed in authority, it will be sure to be the 
very latest style !” 

The Poster Day ceremonies went off without mis- 
hap, except the dire misfortune of Doc MacGruder 
insisting on making a speech. The Freshmen, thor- 
oughly imbued with the crafty Hicks’ diplomatic 
speeches — thought only of next year, when they 
would frame the Freshman Decalogue. It was this 
idea that moved them to obedience, and not any awe 
of the Brotherhood, so far as the posters were con- 
cerned, for even the verdant Freshmen were not de- 
luded that the Faculty would require them to stick 
up the posters. 

In an hour, the campus, college buildings, Ban- 


202 


A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY 


nister Field fence and stands, the trees, and even the 
houses of the Faculty, were adorned with the lurid 
.posters, until it seemed that Bannister must be quar- 
antined. From a distance, the signs looked like no- 
tices of a Sheriff's Sale, and the unknowing might 
have believed that Bannister College had gone into 
bankruptcy. 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., made a fatal error in re- 
serving his climax until the last, though that is the 
proper place for such things. By the time each of 
the hundred Freshmen had stuck up his poster, the 
novelty of Poster Day had worn off for the upper- 
classmen, especially as they would never get to en- 
joy that event, and they, with many of the Sopho- 
mores and the Freshmen, had gone back to their 
studies. 

''All right, Roddy!’ exclaimed the joyous Hicks, 
glorying in his "brief authority” — "Our crowd of 
spectators has dwindled, but no matter — they could 
not have seen you post your sign, anyhow! Get 
hold of a paste-bucket and brush — I’ll bring the pos- 
ters !” 

"Where are you going?” demanded Butch, as Rod- 
dy meekly obeyed orders, and the trio, followed by 
Pudge and Beef, started toward the rear of the cam- 
pus. "You crazy, mentally incapable loon — what’s 
the main idea?” 

"Look !” shouted Hicks, exuberantly, pointing up 


203 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


in the air. ‘‘How about it, fellows ? A conspicuous 
place, eh? Won’t a few posters show up well pn 
that tank? And, as 1919 leader, I saved the highest 
place of all for the chieftain of ’20 to paste his pos- 
ter !” 

Back of the building containing the engine room, 
boilers, steam-heating plant, and dynamos, a big 
water-tank had been built, at least fifty feet in air; 
a ladder had been constructed from the ground up 
to the platform, and at the foot of this the colle- 
gians halted. It was quite dark, away from the 
'Campus, and none of the students in the dormitories 
knew of Hicks’ idea, so he was elated at the sensa- 
tion the posters would create in the morning. 

“Carry the bucket up, Roddy !” he ordered, chuck- 
ling with glee, “I’ll bring the brush and some pos- 
ters ! Come on, fellows ” 

“Not /!” declared Butch Brewster, enthusiasti- 
cally sitting down on the ground. “Pudge, Beef and 
I will wait on terra iirma! It won’t take you 
long, and I get dizzy up high! We’ll camp here, 
and if you need help, just send down the S. O. S. 
call!” 

The meek submission of the high-spirited Roddy 
Perkins might have aroused suspicion in Hicks’ 
mind, only, he was too occupied with his “brief 
authority” to notice. And, in fact, with that behe- 
moth trio on the ground below, there was no peril 


204 


A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY 


in his following the Freshman leader up the ladder, 
to the giddy height of the water-tank platform. 

Under Hicks’ supervision, James Roderick Per- 
kins quickly adorned the circumference of the big 
tank with the posters of the Freshman Decalogue. 
It was truly a splendid place, for — because of their 
immense size, the signs at that height would be con- 
spicuous for a great distance. It was just as the 
toiling Freshman finished his kalsomining that 
Hicks heard Butch Brewster’s voice far below 

“Say, Hicks — are you finished yet? We want to 
go to the football chalk-talk ! Coach Corridan wants 
the football squad at ten o’clock !” 

“Oh, all right!” shouted Hicks, putting his foot 
on the topmost round of the ladder, beginning his 
descent. “We have completed the work, and to- 
morrow the posters on this tank shall emblazon forth 
Sophomore supremacy! Go on, fellows, I don’t 
need you now !” 

As a prophet, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., was a ter- 
rible failure. Perhaps his “dress of brief author- 
ity,” without the ominous presence of his colossal 
classmates, failed to awe the ambitious Roddy Per- 
kins — or, it may have been that the spirited Fresh- 
man chafed under command, and simply could not 
control himself. Again — the Titian-haired youth 
may have seen the exquisite humor in the possibili- 
ties of the situation, and 


205 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

At any rate, the unsuspecting Hicks, just as he 
set foot on mother earth again, was almost stunned 



‘‘‘For old ’20!’’’ 


when James Roderick Perkins, muttering — ‘Tor 
old ’20!’’ threw the contents of the paste-bucket sud- 
denly on the person of the Sophomore leader, clapped 
the inverted bucket over Hicks’ head, and finished by 


206 


A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY 

sticking half a dozen posters of the Freshman Deca- 
logue on various sections of the helpless youth’s 
splinter-structure. 

“Pardon me, Hicks — ” commented Roddy, as he 
picked up the dazed Sophomore leader, and bore 
him swiftly toward the Quadrangle. “I don’t mean 
to defy the Brotherhood, old man, but it was too 
good a chance to be lost. I’ll return you to your 
dorm in good condition, and ” 

When the paralyzed Hicks recovered his senses, 
he was standing in the middle of the Quadrangle — 
with the fierce light of publicity beating down on 
him. The bucket fitted his head so tightly that he 
could not tear it off, the sticky paste flowed down 
his face, and spoiled his clothes, and — several copies 
of the Freshman Decalogue decorated his anatomy. 
To make a climax, Roddy’s foghorn voice awoke the 
echoes : 

“Sophomores — look! Something has happened 
to Hicks! Everybody look — Fire — Murder — Help 
—Police ” 

Windows of the four dormitories flew up, heads 
were thrust out excitedly! One look at the paste- 
log’g'cd Hicks, and shrieks of laughter filled the 
Quadrangle. Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors, Se- 
niors — all united in howls of mirth. Truly, with the 
brilliant light of the court arc lights shining on him, 
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., for once in his heedless 


207 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


career against his will, occupied the center of the 
stage. 

Soon practically every collegian at Bannister 
beheld his plight, and all manner of insane sugges- 
tions were hurled at the hapless Hicks : 

“Swim out, old man — use your head! Butt 
against the wall!” 

“You’re up against trouble — ‘buck-et’ hard!” 

“You seem well posted, Hicks — but you needn’t 
be so stuck upr 

“Are you a sandwich man — ^what are you adver- 
tising old top?” 

“You look like a cat, with its head caught in a 
cream pitcher !” 

Finally big Butch Brewster and Beef McNaugh- 
ton, on their way to the football ‘quizz,’ beheld the 
predicament of their classmate, and though them- 
selves convulsed with laughter, for the sake of 
1919’s dignity, they dragged him into Smithson. In 
the hallway, they yanked the bucket from his head, 
and then — staring at the bedraggled, paste-soaked 
youth, they went off into paroxysms. 

“Oho!” shrieked Butch, pointing at the garb of 
posters. “Hicks — is that you — ‘dressed in a little 
brief authority?’ I didn’t know authority looked 
like that! I guess the angels are weeping now — 
they must have laughed until they cried !” 

“I shall just die of laughing!” proclaimed a help- 


208 


A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY 


less Beef. ‘‘Hicks, the leader of fashion — the ‘Beau 
Brummer of Bannister — in such a ridiculous garb! 
A ‘little brief authority — Oho — it's so funny 1" 
For a time, the vision of T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., 
was not capable of perceiving the slightest humor 
in the situation; then, as the sunny nature of the 
happy-go-lucky youth triumphed, he, too, joined in 
the laughter, until he swayed weakly against the 
wall. 

“Oh! Oh! Ohr he howled. “How funny I must 

look ! Why, fellows, the joke is on me^ and " 

Big Butch Brewster, whom no one ever accused 
of endeavoring to be a Mark Twain, at that instant 
became the author of a scintillating remark that won 
him subsequent fame, and later was published in the 
so-called “Joke Column" of the Bannister Weekly: 

“The joke is on you!" he echoed, gazing at the 
dripping, paste-bedraggled, poster-covered Hicks. 
“Why, you poor insect — it’s all over you!" 


CHAPTER XVI 

RODDY SCORES ONE 

B ig butch BREWSTER, Beef McNaugh- 
ton and Pudge Langdon — like a triumvirate of 
ponderous pachyderms on promenade — lumbered 
down the third-floor corridor of Smithson, and 
paused before T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.’s cozy retreat. 
No light beamed from the transom, and a myste- 
rious silence reigned within, but the three Bannister 
behemoths gazed at an artistically executed sign on 
the portal, which announced : 

NOTICE! To Whom It May (fill with) Concern! 
STOP! LOOK! LISTEN! 

I — Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr. — the Fastest “Studyer” 
at Bannister — holder of several records for ‘‘cramming, ’’ 
having prepared for a final History Exam in two hours — 
at 8 p.M. tonight, March i, will start a “Study Sprint” in 
in my room ! Please do not BOTHER me until the finish, 
either of the sprint or of myself, which will be officially 
announced by the opening of my door! 


210 


RODDY SCORES ONE 


To my friends, who will undoubtedly become worried, 
I wish to state that I am in good condition, and that I 
positively will not study myself into paroxysms ! In case 
I succumb to the terriffic strain — if my door is not open 
by 10 p.M. — BREAK IT DOWN — and summon medical 
aid! Signed: T. Haviland Hicks, Jr, Champion Speed 
Student of Bannister 

‘'BAH growled Butch Brewster, showing his 
regard for Hicks’ request by pushing open the port- 
al, which was not locked — the blithesome youth 
would have regarded that as a crime — “If Hicks 
really wants to bone, fellows, we won’t take any- 
more of his precious time than is necessary. How- 
ever, he must be warned that ” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., sat at his study-table — 
seemingly boning. The electric light wore a green 
shade, while a similar one adorned the happy-go- 
lucky youth’s classic brow — a white towel was 
wrapped around his head, mostly for effect — on 
chance visitors, and in the soft glow, the sunny 
Sophomore presented an intensely studious appear- 
ance. 

In truth, the care-free Hicks was actually study- 
ing — making his “study sprint,” as he humorously 
called it, before the second term examinations. After 
his Big Brotherhood of Bannister campaign, which 
gave his alma mater a chance at the State Football 
Championship, though sorrowfully it must be 
chronicled that the Gold and Green failed — by a 


2II 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


field-goal that struck the crossbar — to corral that 
glory, he had been a campus hero. Outside of their 
good-natured ridicule of all his athletic efforts, the 
collegians regarded the butterfly Hicks as a prodigy, 
and he was the most popular collegian on the 
campus. 

The Big Brotherhood of Bannister, in the months 
since the Faculty sanctioned it — on a most memor- 
able night — had proved a complete success; the 
Freshmen obeyed the rules, and the upper-classmen 
admirably carried out its fundamental principles. 
Already, a more brotherly spirit prevailed on the 
campus, the Freshmen were helped and advised by 
the older students, and sincere efforts were being 
made by the entire student-body for a ‘‘Better Ban- 
nister.’’ 

Roddy Perkins, like the man he would be, had 
trampled on his Napoleonic ambitions — he was be- 
ginning to have that “clear vision,” and most honor- 
ably, he had acknowledged the error of his past. 
Urging his class to forget the ridiculous votes-for- 
Freshmen crusade, he had enthused them with a 
fervid desire to serve old Bannister. So — a fight- 
ing scrub had given the regulars a fierce scrimmage 
every day, and the Freshmen first team stars, Roddy, 
Biff Pemberton and Hefty Hollingsworth, had 
hurled themselves into the fray with wonderful bril- 
liancy. 


212 


RODDY SCORES ONE 


With the Freshman — upper-class enmity ended, 
the collegians had united in one thought, BANNIS- 
TER COLLEGE, STATE FOOTBALL CHAM- 
PIONS — 1915. Mass meetings were held, speeches 
were made by Coach Corridan, the players 
and the Faculty — enthusiasm had been at the high- 
est altitude. Every afternoon the Bannister Band 
played, and the students cheered on the side-lines, as 
the squad fought furiously on the gridiron. The 
first team, training, toiling, sacrificing, were bat- 
tered by day and at night they listened tO' the Coach’s 
quizzes and chalk-talks. 

Then — the Saturday before Thanksgiving — the 
big game. Then — the undefeated Gold and Green 
struggled with the still victorious State Champions 
of the previous year — Ballard, with the most splen- 
did team in that college’s history. Every Bannister 
collegian recalled that day with a pang of sorrow — 
it brought to mind a try for a field-goal by Captain 
Jack Merritt, in the last minute of play, with the 
score six to five for Ballard. It painted, in memory, 
a picture of 

A flying pigskin, striking the crossbar and falling 
— on the wrong side. The Bannister rooters — 
crushed, dazed — the Ballard cohorts, a shrieking, 
frenzied horde, bearing their gladiators from the 
gridiron. Silent, heart-broken — some weeping bit- 
terly — the Gold and Green players had staggered 


15 


213 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

bewilderedly through a gloomy, disconsolate throng. 
Then— the spirit of tragedy, of defeat — brooding 
over Bannister’s campus, until the collegians, 
coaches. Faculty and football squad cheered them- 
selves with the determined slogan, the champion- 
ship — next year. 

Time had passed swiftly — ‘'sprinted with spiked 
shoes” — as Hicks expressed it, after the memor- 
able Bannister-Ballard game. With the first-term 
examinations, the Christmas vacation and the re- 
hearsals for the Webster Literary Society play, in 
January, the Sophomore leader had been very busy. 
As chairman of the Annual Sophomore Banquet 
Committee — the great affair to take place on March 
the fourth — Hicks had found the past three weeks 
offering him but few spare moments for his be- 
loved banjo-twanging, and now — ^he was grind- 
ing. 

“Hail — or snow, noble Citizens !” grinned the in- 
dustrious Hicks, as the trio creaked into his room. 
“What is this — a Committee from the Home for 
Indignant Old People? I haven’t transgressed — 
have I? Why, I didn’t thump my banjo or roar 
any songs — I’ve been perfectly quiet tonight, 
and 

“We are a Lunacy Commission,” explained Beef, 
gravely. “And we have come to make an examina- 
tion of you — for Matteawan ! We have no doubt 


214 


RODDY SCORES ONE 


that you will pass all exams — admitting you to any 
lunatic asylum, and ” 

Big Butch Brewster, who was forever lecturing 
the debonair Hicks on his heedless existence, was 
not the one to bother his friend, when he really 
desired to explore the interior of his books. So, 
checking Beef’s rambling discourse, the young Her- 
cules strode across the room, faced the grinning 
youth solemnly, and laid his hands on the 1919 
leader’s shoulders. 

“Hicks,” he said impressively, “we won’t break 
up your study, for I believe you are cramming, but 
remember — Monday is the Fourth of March, so — 
be careful !” 

“Who do you think I am, Julius Caesar?” de- 
manded Hicks humorously. “Why say ye unto me. 
Oh soothsayer — ‘Caesar, beware the Ides of March !’ 
Who, then, is to be Brutus, and stab me in the 
Forum — or aftum. By the way, Cassius and the 
conspirators were afraid to assassinate Caesar, so 
they got someone to do it — Forum ! Joke — time to 
laugh !” 

“Your Brutus will be — Roddy Perkins!” boomed 
Beef. “He will cause your downfall, if you do not 
beware. Hicks, think, if you possibly can achieve 
that feat, what Bannister tradition is connected with 
the Sophomore banquet?” 

Each Sophomore class at Bannister College held 


215 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


a banquet, usually in the early spring, downtown 
at the Hotel Main Court. The Freshmen were 
popularly supposed to kidnap, abduct or shanghai 
the second-year president, before the feast, and pre- 
vent his presence at that important event. In times 
past, some Freshmen had removed that dignitary 
fromi the campus so far as a week ahead of the 
festal night, but a few years back, Prexy, not desir- 
ing to interfere with campus tradition, but seeing 
the need of regulation, issued this pronunciamento : 

^‘The Sophomore president, or any collegian 
whatsoever, must not be kept from the campus for 
more than one scholastic day, and this concession is 
granted only in the affair of the Sophomore ban- 
quet.’’ 

‘‘Why should we worry, yet?” requested Hicks 
cheerily. “This is Friday, and our ‘feast of reason 
and flow of soul’ isn’t scheduled until Monday 
night. However, I suppose you three memories of 
a prehistoric age feared I might forget — never fear, 
I know Roddy Perkins has vowed to shanghai me, 
since no Freshman class has kidnapped the Soph 
president for six years, and I am — on guard !” 

‘'You'' spluttered Pudge Langdon. “Butch, all 
day Monday, we had better escort Hicks around the 
college and the campus, for if there is any possible 
way to bungle things, and fall into Roddy’s clutches, 
trust this Human Accident to accomplish it. Indeed, 


I 


216 


RODDY SCORES ONE 


I have a premonition that the Freshmen will remove 
our string-bean comrade from our midst/' 

‘‘Hicks," said Butch tenderly, “you insignificant, 
incompetent, hopelessly irresponsible nonentity — we 
leave you now. But — remember " 

“ ‘Beware the Ides of March, Oh Caesar !' " quoth 
Hicks, as his colossal classmates filed from the 
room. “Be not perturbed, thou noblest Romans of 
them all — the mighty Caesar refuseth to permit any 
Brute, I mean — Brutus — to encompass his downfall. 
I, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., will positively appear and 
preside at the festive board on Monday night, where 
some will be festive, and others — bored. Joke — 
I " 

The door slammed violently on his blithesome 
monologue, and after the heavy tread, and the vol- 
canic explosions of his classmates had subsided in 
the corridor, the heedless Hicks resumed his study 
sprint with commendable zeal. Knowing how his 
father rejoiced at his leading the class, in his Fresh- 
man year, Hicks was ambitious to come out ahead 
once more, to please his beloved Dad. 

It was at half-past nine o'clock, an hour later^ 
that Hicks, hearing his name called from some- 
where across the Quadrangle, raised the window 
and peered out. It was snowing, and he could not 
see clearly, but guided by the shouts, he made out 
an indistinct figure, standing before an open window 


217 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


over in Bannister Hall, the Senior dormitory, and 
he heard some one booming through a megaphone — 
imitating a bellhop paging a guest. 

‘‘Mr. Hicks — telephone! Administration Build- 
ing — office! Call for Mr. T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.! 
Mr. Hicks — in the lobby !” 

As this was the customary method of summoning 
to the telephone any collegian who was wanted, 
Hicks’ only thought was an instinctive reluctance to 
cross the campus in the driving snow. However, 
as the manager of the Main Court Inn had called up 
the festive youth frequently of late, to inquire about 
various details of the 1919 banquet, the sunny 
Sophomore deemed it necessary to obey the call. 

Right r roared Hicks, closing the window and 
donning his coat. “It’s Mr. Clendenning, of the 
Main Court Inn, I know, he calls me up seventeen 
times per noctem, to learn my wishes as to whether 
the soup shall be served with a fork or not, and so 
on. He had better make me the manager, instead of 
himself, of that caravansary. I could run the place, 
I am sure.” 

Hurrying downstairs, and out the campus en- 
trance to Smithson, Hicks was soon ploughing 
through the driving snow, across to the Administra- 
tion Building. As he neared the doorway, he met 
Bob Thomas, a big Freshman, who was plunging 
toward Creighton Hall ; this indolent youth was the 


218 


RODDY SCORES ONE 


son of Judge Thomas, of the County Court, and he 
usually lived downtown, at his father’s home, but 
as his parents were in Florida for the winter, he 
roomed in the Freshman dormitory. He was for- 
ever seated gracefully on the back of his neck, in 
his father’s car, which he could get from the town 
garage, and it was rather an unusual sight to behold 
him afoot. 

’Lo, Bob!” hailed Hicks, for the Freshman fre- 
quently took him for harmless, though sometimes 
meteoric joyrides. ‘‘Where’s the racer tonight, old 
skeezicks? Looks as queer as seeing a fish roller- 
skating on dry land, as to- come across you — 
walking.” 

“I left it down on Main Street,” responded Bob 
Thomas, pausing. ‘‘Say, Hicks, I’ve got something 
here to show you, and if you have a second or so to 
spare ” 

Just as the totally unsuspecting Hicks stopped, 
interested in whatever exhibition Bob was about to 
give, things happened. Several figures appeared on 
the scene with a celerity that suggested precon- 
ceived action — a blanket was thrown over his head, 
so that his shouts were effectually muffied, strong 
arms picked him up, with ridiculous ease, and — 
kicking and writhing futilely, the vain-glorious 
president of 1919, was carried from the campus. 

Realizing it was useless to struggle, Hicks sub- 


219 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


sided. A few minutes of walking, done entirely by 
his captors, and he felt himself shoved into an auto- 
mobile, presumably that of the treacherous Bob 
Thomas, and he was forced down on the seat. Soon 



the car began to quiver and pulsate, and then — with 
a barely perceptible jar, it moved swiftly away, 
bearing the shanghaied T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. — he 
knew not where. 

'The desperate deed is done,’’ some Freshman 
sibilated. "The great photoplay. The Shanghaied 
Sophomore’ is now being acted, with the famous 
Hicks in the chief role. Roddy, you have put one 
over on T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., at last!” 

When the fast-traveling car had reached the open 
country, and was purring along a hard road, the 


220 


RODDY SCORES ONE 


baffling blanket was removed, and the panting, per- 
spiring Hicks sat up and looked around. Though it 
still snowed, a pallid moon struggled to shine 
through the clouds, and the kidnapped Sophomore 
beheld Bob Thomas at the steering wheel, with the 
. redoubtable Roddy Perkins at his side, while on the 
rear seat, one on each side of their celebrated 
prisoner, sat Biff Pemberton and Hefty Hollings- 
worth. 

‘'Greetings, gentle youth!” said Roddy Perkins, 
his Cheshire cat grin much in evidence. “Have we 
outwitted you, Hicks ? Oh, it was cleverly plotted — ■ 
we knew that the Main Court Inn manager has 
called you up on several nights, to ask about some 
banquet details. We had a Freshman go over to 
Bannister and page you, so you would not suspect, 
as you might have done, had we called you to the 
telephone from our dorm. Bob had his Dad's car 
waiting down the street, and we had twenty Fresh- 
men in hiding, when you crossed the campus, so 
you may consider yourself shanghaied.” 

“You tricked me, old man!” confessed Hicks, 
frankly, as the big car shot onward, its headlights 
illuminating the snow-covered road far ahead. “But 
to quote a newspaper cartoonist of note — ‘What are 
you going to do with it' — or me ?” 

“Listen,” James Roderick Perkins, pardonably 
exultant, faced the helpless Hicks. ‘Wo one saw 


221 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


your shanghaiing, and if they did, no matter. Bob’s 
Dad owns a country home, five miles from town, 
they live there in the summer, and at present, his 
parents are in Florida. He has the key to the house, 
and it is a mile back from the road — as you know, 
he has the use of this car — witness, he is using it in 
a good cause now. 

‘We shall take you to Judge Thomas’s country 
place, and keep you there until Monday at mid- 
night, when we’ll give you free transportation back 
to college, where the fellows will be prepared to 
meet you. No one is likely to come near this house, 
set back as it is from the road, and known to be 
vacant in winter. We have provisions, we’ll build 
a fire, and cook our own eats — a regular indoor 
camp. At night, we have a room especially pre- 
pared for you, with tzvo bolts on the door — with all 
your famous escaping powers, you worit get away.” 

Hicks sat for a time, in dazed silence. As the 
banquet was not until Monday night, and this was 
only Friday, he felt that Roddy had not stayed 
strictly within the letter of the law, that he had vio- 
lated the spirit of the tradition. The sunny Sopho- 
more had really intended to be on his guard from 
Sunday night on, but 

“This doesn’t seem sportsmanlike, Roddy!” he 
objected. “You want to play this game straight, I 
know. Not that your plot for shanghaiing me and 


222 


RODDY SCORES ONE 


keeping me prisoner isn't O. K. — it's great ! But — 
you Freshmen are not supposed to keep me away 
from the campus for more than one day, and 

The Titian-haired leader of 1920 grinned joy- 
ously, and when he responded, Hicks saw how he 
had been caught slumbering — how even Butch, 
Pudge, Beef and the rest of his class had not seen 
the joker" in the fact that the Sophomore banquet 
was scheduled for a Monday night, instead of on 
Tuesday, as was the usual custom. 

'There's how w^e trapped you !" announced Roddy 
jubilantly, while his aides-de-camp laughed uproari- 
ously. "What does our 'Prexy's' proclamation, 
issued three years ago, say — 'The Sophomore presi- 
dent, or any collegian whatsoever, must not be kept 
from the campus more than one scholastic day, and 
this concession is granted only in the afifair of the 
Sophomore banquet.' Remember " 

J. Roddy Perkins paused, to let the bewildered 
Hicks absorb this statement, before he, with sledge- 
hammer force, proceeded to nail his rival's objection 
thus : 

"'One scholastic day, Hicks," he grinned amiably. 
"This is Friday night, Saturday and Sunday are 
holidays; therefore, Monday, the only day you will 
have recitations, is the one scholastic day we shall 
keep you away from dear old Bannister." 


CHAPTER XVII 

HICKS PLAYS HOUDINI 

B ig hefty Hollingsworth, that colos- 
sal, terrifically earnest Freshman, gave vent to 
an indignant exclamation, and slammed down the 
Philadelphia Chronicle, which he had been perusing 
interestedly. 

“Sheer rot!” he snorted indignantly. “It can’t 
be done, fellows. Those newspaper reporters can 
think up more wild stories than the heroine of the 

Arabian Nights. It’s impossible, and ” 

Hefty, with Biff Pemberton, Bob Thomas, Roddy 
Perkins, and last, but far from least, in im- 
portance, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., lounged lazily in 
the luxuriously furnished library of Judge Thomas’ 
country home. A cheery wood-fire blazed and 
crackled in the open fireplace, the collegians reposed ^ 
comfortably in the great, leather-covered chairs. 
Bob played the Victrola, Roddy thumped the piano 


224 


HICKS PLAYS HOUDINI 


at intervals, and often there was a rollicking quin- 
tette, roaring lustily songs of old Bannister. 

Hefty Hollingsworth's four companions, vastly 
amused at the indignant disbelief of that behemoth 
Freshman, crowded around the library table, as he 
spread out the Chronicle, and jabbed his finger 
fiercely at the offending article. They saw on the 
back page of the newspaper, a half-column story 
under the caption : 

HOUDINI— THE HANDCUFF KING— ESCAPES 
FROM CITY HALL CELL! 

Harry Houdini, the famous Handcuff King, yesterday 
afternoon made a sensational escape from a cell in the 
City Hall, baffling the police and detectives by his ‘feat. 
Houdini, who is performing this week at Keith's Theatre, 
accepted the invitation of Chief of Police Toomey, to 
allow himself to be locked up in a thoroughly modern 
cell — from which, unaided, he was to escape within half 
an hour. 

The test took place before a number of Police Depart- 
ment offlcials. City Hall detectives, and newspaper re- 
porters. Houdini, with his clothing removed, and held by 
Chief Toomey, was locked in Cell 15, at two o'clock, after 
being carefully searched for pieces of wire, or such lock- 
forcing devices. Two policemen stood a few yards from 
the cell door, to see that no one came near the prisoner, 
yet — twenty minutes later, the Handcuff King strolled 
nonchalantly down the corridor, slapped Chief Toomey 
on the back, and said, ‘T'll take my clothes now, if you 
please. Chief I" 

The cell from which Houdini escaped is an up-to-date 
one, and the lock is the latest type, supposedly impossible 


225 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

o*f being forced. When it is remembered that Houdini 
was stripped before being incarcerated, and that the lock 
was inspected before he was allowed to attempt escape, 
his feat in walking from the cell is marvelous ! 

The Handcuff King has made similar escapes from 
modern cells in the Police Headquarters of New York, 
Boston, and other cities, and 

It’s ridiculous !” stormed Hefty, as the collegians 
absorbed the Chronicle's account. ^‘You fellows 
know that some reporter faked that story. It’s just 
a press agent’s dream to attract people to see Hou- 
dini’s act at the theater. It would be absolutely 
impossible for any human being to escape from a 
modern police cell, with the latest type of lock, 
especially after being stripped and searched 
first.” 

‘‘Oh, I don’t know!” grinned Roddy, stretching 
himself luxuriously on the davenport. “I’ve seen 
Houdini’s act, and he is a wonder. Hefty. They 
shackle his wrists with handcuffs, and his ankles 
with leg-irons, yet he frees himself with wonderful 
quickness. Why, I saw his attendants fill a big can 
brimful of water; he got inside, and ducked under 
until he was completely submerged, and then the 
lid was locked on. The curtains were drawn around 
the can, and in a very brief time he came out, the 
can was shown, still locked, and when opened, it is 
full of water.” 

“Oh!” scoffed the incredulous Hefty, “he escapes 


226 


HICKS PLAYS HOUDINI 


behind the curtains, does he? I tell you, Roddy — 
it’s all a hoax, isn’t it, Hicks?” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., whose mind had been in- 
spired by this newspaper story toward originating a 
means by which he might escape, grinned at the 
Freshmen, but refused to take sides in the argu- 
ment. He was wondering what sort of a room he 
would be incarcerated in — and, if he would be able 
to imitate this Houdini. Roddy, not wishing to 
keep his rival locked up until Monday at midnight, 
had generously offered Hicks the freedom of the 
house and the side yard, in the daytime, provid- 
ing, however, that his prisoner gave his word of 
honor not to attempt an escape while out of the 
room in which he would be imprisoned during the 
night. 

The shanghaied Sophomore, realizing that to 
refuse meant long, weary hours in close captivity, 
readily gave his promise, with the understanding 
that he was privileged to escape from the room in 
which he would be locked at night, if possible. 
Hicks, in truth, admired immensely the splendidly 
executed plot of the masterly Roddy ; first, knowing 
that Manager Clendenning, of the Main Court Inn, 
had frequently called up the 1919 president, for 
information as to the banquet, the Freshman had 
posted a first-year student in Bannister Hall, to 
make Hicks believe some Senior had informed him 


227 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


he was wanted at the telephone, in the Administra- 
tion Building office. 

Aided by the driving snow, the actual kidnapping 
had not been witnessed, and the chargrilled Hicks 
was positive that no one at Bannister knew where 
he was hidden, or who had captured him. The four 
Freshmen had laid in a stock of provisions and ex- 
pected to cook their own meals, with T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., as the guest of honor. With the Vic- 
trola, the piano and a fine library, the collegians 
were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and Hicks 
would have had a glorious, good time, except for the 
harassing knowledge that Roddy had outwitted him, 
and that his chances of presiding at the 1919 banquet 
seemed infinitesimal. 

‘‘Don’t ask Hicks,” laughed the Titian-haired 
Roddy. “He is a regular Houdini the Second, him- 
self. You know what he did last year. Hefty — he 
allowed thirty hazers to come in his room, the door 
was locked, and guarded on both sides, and yet, 
with a minute of grace, Hicks escaped.” 

“That was different,” declared Biff Pemberton, 
joining the argument. “They wore sheets and 
masks, as he knew they would, and after he smashed 
the light bulb, he put them on quickly, in the dark. 
Then, when the light came on — with another bulb 
procured — the hazers believed he had escaped, and 
as they rushed out to seek him, he made his get- 


228 


HICKS PLAYS HOUDINI 


away — one of them. But he won’t play Houdini 
from the cell Bob and I have prepared for him, with 
no windows in it, and two bolts on the door.” 

Their excited discussion was interrupted by the 
silvery chimes of a small clock on the mantelpiece, 
which gently announced that it was midnight. T. 
Haviland Hicks, Jr., arose, stretched himself sleep- 
ily, and grinned amiably at his captors. Thereupon 
Bob Thomas, remembering his duties as host, and 
Roddy, recalling his as jailer, became excessively 
courteous toward their distinguished guest and 
prisoner. 

‘‘Come Hicks,” requested Roddy politely, “we 
shall show you To your boudoir. After you have 
seen the room in which you will be imprisoned at 
night, you will relinquish all hopes of being present 
at the 1919 banquet on Monday night.” 

Climbing two flights of stairs, the Freshmea 
escorted Hicks to a room on the third-floor back.. 
With elaborate precaution, since, as Bob explained^ 
the key was missing, two strong bolts had beea 
fitted on the outside of the door, rendering escape 
seemingly impossible. The room itself was per- 
fectly bare, except for a cot, with ample covers — it 
was used for storage purposes only, for which rea- 
son the first-year collegians now used it as a cell. 
There were no windows, and as the door was at 
least two inches thick, of heavy oak, any attempt on 

10 229 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


the part of the slender Hicks to break it down would 
have been ludicrous. 

''Good night r said Roddy sweetly, as Hicks en- 
tered the room. ‘‘Until we let you out in the 
morning, you can imitate Houdini, if possible. 
However, we shall slumber peacefully, for those 
two bolts will hold you, old man. We shall call you 
in time for breakfast, unless you prefer to sleep all 
the morning to forget your sorrow/’ 

"Au revoir, Roddy,” grinned the serene Hicks. 
“But remember — / will be present at the Sophomore 
banquet. This is only Friday night, and if I do 
nbt get an inspiration in time to help me escape for 
the big spread, then — Fll deserve the ridicule I will 
receive when I return to college. Oh, just leave it 
to Hicks, and ” 

The door closed, and he heard the bolts grating 
into the sockets. Hicks, as his captors strode away, 
to seek more luxurious quarters for the night, sat 
on the edge of the cot and carefully surveyed the 
small room in which he was incarcerated, and from 
which he must escape. The walls and floors were 
bare — there was nothing by which he might effect 
an exit, as no windows were in evidence, the portal, 
being thick, could not be battered down, and any 
such attempt would arouse the Freshmen; also, the 
two bolts on the outside would have resisted the 
rushes of a Hercules. 


230 


HICKS PLAYS HOUDINI 


The door, opening on a hallway, was in the mid- 
dle of the wall, that is, there was a space of several 
feet to each side of the frame. Hicks, scanning his 
quarters thoroughly, could see no way by which he 
might wrest the laurels from the celebrated Houdini. 
Having given his word of honor not to break his 
parole, in the daytime, he mtist escape from this 
room during one of the three nights before the 
Sophomore banquet. No matter how often he 
looked elsewhere in the little room, his gaze invari- 
ably strayed back to the portal, and he fell to 
studying it, as he sat on the cot. 

"T don’t blame them for going to bed,” he re- 
flected ruefully. ‘‘This room is as effective a cell as 
any in jails or penitentiaries. With these thick 
walls, no windows, and a two-inch oak door, rein- 
forced on the exterior with two massive iron bolts, 
it looks bad for T. Haviland Hicks, Jr.” 

It was possible that Butch Brewster and the Soph- 
omores would not miss their class president until 
Saturday morning, even so late as nine o’clock, 
since the indolent Hicks frequently slept late when 
there were no recitations to bother him. And, even 
when his protracted absence from the campus con- 
vinced his classmates that Roddy Perkins had “put 
one over” on 1919, what could be done? No one 
would know where the shanghaied Hicks had been 
taken, and since Bob Thomas was to return to 


231 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Bannister early Saturday, and be in evidence, so as 
to divert suspicion from himself and his car, there 
was no chance of a rescue. 

Hicks meditated — he must not let the brilliant 
James Roderick Perkins succeed in observing this 
Bannister tradition, and in keeping the Sophomore 
leader from the banquet. The class of 1920 had 
already defeated the second-year collegians in the 
class rush and the football game — only by winning 
the track meet and the baseball contest could the 
year's honors be divided equally. Though the 
Freshmen had failed to learn 1919's colors, if they 
kept T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., a prisoner until Mon- 
day, at midnight, they would expose their rivals to 
jeers and ridicule. 

The happy-go-lucky youth, knowing how the 
collegians had good-humoredly tormented and per- 
secuted him, after he had, the year before, won the 
Freshman-Sophomore football game for the other 
eleven by getting bewildered and running to the 
wrong goal-line with the ball, groaned in spirit. If 
he failed to escape from Roddy Perkins, after that 
young Napoleon had so cleverly trapped him, what 
a reception would be his, when he returned to the 
campus. 

'T will escape," muttered Hicks, staring at the 
door, as though hypnotized by it. “Pll have an 
inspiration, and " 


232 


HICKS PLAYS HOUDINI 


Suddenly he arose, gazing at the door, while an 
expression of dawning intelligence visited his 
countenance. Quickly he strode over the portal, 
examining it carefully; then, for several moments, 
as the “big idea” possessed him, the erstwhile medi- 



tative youth’s serious face became adorned with a 
beatific smile. 

“Oh, I’ll play Houdini, all right,” he breathed 
rapturously. “How absurdly simple — why didn’t I 
see it before. Just wait until my captors become 
wrapped in the arms of Morpheus, and dream of 
my chagrin. I, Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr., will 
be ‘among those present’ at the 1919 banquet, on 
Monday night.” 


233 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


The next morning at eight o’clock, James Rod- 
erick Perkins, coming to the door of Hicks’ room, 
grinned exultantly to himself as he saw the bolts 
securely in place. There was no possible chance of 
an escape, the Freshman chieftain was positive, for 
he had beefn locked in the room by his colleagues, 
to test the cell, before Hicks was shanghaied, and 
he was utterly helpless. There was no sound from 
within; evidently, their prisoner was sleeping, for 
it was a cold day — and the Freshman leader shot 
the bolts back, cautiously opened the door and 
shouted : 

‘'Wake up, Hicks, breakfast is ready. Bob has 
cooked a most appetizing repast, and ” 

One look into the room, and the paralyzed Roddy 
Perkins emitted a wild shriek that would have 
shocked a full-blooded Apache Indian. As his 
frenzied shouts echoed through the house. Hefty 
Hollingsworth, Bifif Pemberton and the chef. Bob 
Thomas, dashed wildly up the two flights of stairs — 
together, the baffled Freshmen looked into the room 
— now vacant. 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., had escaped. Though 
there were no windows in the room, and J. Roderick 
Perkins had found the door securely bolted on the 
outside, as he had left it the previous night, their 
prisoner was gone. The cot had never been slept 
in, showing that the Sophomore leader had lost no 


234 


HICKS PLAYS HOUDINI 


precious moments, but had proceeded to take French 
leave as soon as he deemed it a propitious time. 
Even as the great Houdini had emerged from the 
can filled with water, leaving that receptacle pad- 
locked on the outside, so the sunny Hicks had made 
his way from that room, leaving the only possible 
way of exit still bolted on the exterior. 

In absolute consternation, the stunned Freshmen 
stared helplessly at each other, and at the portal. 
It was extremely annoying, to say the very least, 
after they had slept peacefully, in the firm belief 
that escape from the room was utterly impossible, 
to awaken and find their distinguished prisoner 
among the missing. But, when the mysterious 
Hicks actually left the door securely bolted on the 
outside, giving no indication of how he made his 
exit, it was adding insult to injury. 

''Gone!'' gasped Hefty Hollingsworth, voicing a 
self-evident fact. ‘‘Roddy, how did he get out? 
Why — just think of how the campus will torment 
us, after Hicks escaped from our very clutches.” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., had presented the four 
Freshmen with a baffling mystery which they could 
not solve. They had confidently believed that no 
human being could get out of that room, window- 
less as it was, and barred by two strong bolts, yet — 
the impossible had been achieved, and in a manner 
that defied explanation. 


235 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


“One thing is sure,” said Roddy Perkins, at last, 
filled with a great admiration for the care-free 
Hicks, “Hicks has kept his word, for he has indeed 
'played Houdini.’ ” 


CHAPTER XVIII 

TOM SAWYER AGAIN ASSISTS HICKS 

‘‘It’s a long way to dear old Bannister — 

It’s a long way to go ! 

It’s a long way to dear old Bannister — 

Trudging through the snow! 

Farewell to Roddy Perkins — 

I’ve left his tender care 1 
It’s a long time until the ’19 banquet — 

But Hicks will be right there I” 

T HAVILAND hicks, JR., strolling non- 
. chalantly into the Quadrangle at the most 
reprehensible hour of 3 a. m. Saturday, roared 
lustily an improvised parody on the popular song, 
‘TPs a Long Way to Tipperary!’’ Even as the 
Tommy Atkins of England marched to its strains, 
so the irrepressible youth, plodding through the 
snow on his five mile journey from Judge Thomas’ 
country place to the Bannister campus, had enlivened 
the tedious hours by his Caruso-like efforts. 


237 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


On the steps of Smithson, the sunny Sophomore 
paused — the college was wrapped in slumber, no 
lights gleamed from the dormitories, and only those 
of the Quadrangle shed a dim glow on the court, 
while a supreme silence reigned on the campus. Be- 
cause the collegians were industriously sleeping, no 
sarcastic advice and humorous remarks were hurled 
down on the devoted head of the troubadour Hicks 
— fortunately, for himself as well as the long-suffer- 
ing students, he did not disturb their dreams by his 
nocturnal chant. 

‘‘ ‘It’s a long way to dear old Bannister,’ ” bel- 
lowed Hicks, determined to arouse some indignant 
protest, before he retired, this was a golden oppor- 
tunity to torture his fellows, by vocal efforts at 3 
A. M. Then, as a vivid mental vision of his erstwhile 
shanghaiers Bob Thomas, Hefty Hollingsworth, 
Biff Pemberton, and the famous Roddy Perkins, 
came before him, the incorrigible leader of 1919 
collapsed on the snow-covered steps of Smithson 
Hall. 

“Oho !” he chortled gleefully. “I would give any- 
thing — my dearly beloved banjo, to be on the 
scene about eight o’clock this morning, when my 
hosts call me to breakfast ! Ha ! Ha ! I shall die of 
laughter, I just know I shall, when I behold them 
again. Houdini has nothing on me — yet, had I not 
gotten my needed inspiration, when I gazed at that 


238 


TOM SAWYER AGAIN ASSISTS HICKS 


door, I would still be a prisoner, for that room was 
a veritable cell!’’ 

Hicks went off into another paroxysm of laughter, 
from which he recovered as a brilliant idea stalked 
through the corridors of his brain — he would invade 
the room of good Butch Brewster, pull that wrathy 
behemoth from bed and slumber, and relate to him 
the exciting events of the night. From half-past 
nine o’clock Friday p. m. until the present, 3 a. m. 
Saturday morning, had surely been a most eventful 
period in the care-free career of T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr. 

‘T’ll do it!” chuckled Hicks, climbing the stairs. 
‘‘Won’t old Butch be uproarious when he hears how 
I escaped from that room ! I must spread the news 
over the campus, so the fellows will torment Roddy 
and his followers unmercifully! Won’t Roddy be 
wild, when I explain to him the exceedingly simple 
'method by which I escaped from a seemingly im- 
possible situation, and from durance vile!” 

Arriving at the third floor corridor, the festive 
collegian was about to kick open Butch Brewster’s 
door, rush in, and tumble his huge comrade to the 
floor, amid a tangle of bedclothes, when he 
stopped — his foot still raised for the assault on the 
portal. It had suddenly dawned on him that, per- 
haps, Butch and the class of 1919 — in fact, the cam- 
pus at large, had not known that the Freshman lead- 


239 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


er had succeeded in making off with the blithesome 
Sophomore president. If no one had witnessed the 
shanghaiing, which was probable, because of the 
snowstorm, then it was highly possible that Butch 
Brewster and the others who had besought him to 
be careful, slept tranquilly, unaware that the heed- 
less Hicks had been abducted from the campus. 

‘‘Knowing that I was boning,” reflected Hicks, as 
he stood outside his door, and before that of Butch 
Brewster, “perhaps the fellows never bothered me, 
and they believe I am abed. Or, if they did enter 
my den, finding me out, they probably thought I was 
down at Jerry’s — because, like myself. Butch and 
the others forgot the banquet was Monday night, 
and so Roddy was free to kidnap me. I wonder 
if ” 

At that moment, he saw a poster, in large, red- 
inked letters, printed most artistically, lying on the 
corridor floor — evidently, it had been torn from his 
door by some wrathful Sophomore, crumpled, and 
hurled aside in rage. Hicks picked it up, smoothed 
out the soiled sheet, and read : 

NOTICE! TO THE CLASS OF ’19! WE FRESH- 
MEN HAVE TRIUMPHED AT LAST! 

We have kidnapped your President — the mighty T. 
Haviland Hicks, Jr. — and we have him in a safe place! 
It will be useless to seek him — he will be royally treated, 
and brought back to the campus on Monday, at midnight ! 


240 


TOM SAWYER AGAIN ASSISTS HICKS 


For the first time in six years, a Freshman class has car- 
ried out the ancient tradition, and prevented the second- 
year leader from presiding at the Sophomore Banquet ! 

’RAH FOR ’20! Hail — Roddy Perkins — ! Find Hicks 
— if you can! 

Signed : 

THE GREAT AND GLORIOUS CLASS OF 1920! 

Then — Butch did know. Evidently some Fresh- 
man — presumably one of the valiant crowd that had 
aided Roddy’s shanghaiing of the mosquito-like 
Hicks, had posted this notice, either by his leader’s 
orders, or from his own original idea. By this time, 
undoubtedly, the whole campus was aware that Rod- 
dy Perkins had succeeded in kidnapping T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., and that unless unforeseen events trans- 
pired in the captive’s favor, the Sophomore presi- 
dent would not be ‘‘among those present” at the 
1919 banquet on Monday night. 

And — Hicks was fully aware of the fact that 
Butch, Pudge, Beef and the rest of his classmates 
were being made thfe targets of ridicule and jeers 
from Freshmen and upper-classmen, because the 
astute Roddy had seen that, although Hicks would 
be abducted Friday night, only one scholastic day 
would be detained from college. 

“I’ll wake the old fellow up!” grinned Hicks, 
hardly able to restrain an intense desire to shriek 
with mirth, as he visioned the chagrin of his Fresh- 


241 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


man kidnappers, when he next saw them — possibly 
at dinner. “Butch is having troublesome dreams, I 
wot, and Til tell him the harrowing tale, so he can ■ 
sleep easier — quite a paradoxical statement.’’ |t 

Then another thought occurred to him. In truth, 
a veritable “express train” of thought seemed to \ 
have become side-tracked in the happy-go-lucky | 
Hicks mind — this time, however, it was Tom Sazu- j 
yer who inspired him, even as that entertaining boy- ! 
hero had made it possible for Hicks to plan the Big 
Brotherhood of Bannister, and save his alma mater 
from the Insubordinate Freshmen. The sunny 
Sophomore remembered one part of Mark Twain’s 
joyous chronicle of boyhood, a story that had 
strongly appealed to him, and an episode that he had 
often wished he could inflict on the Bannister col- 
legians. 

It was where the care-free Tom, disappointed in 
love, and horribly persecuted at home by Aunt Polly, 
decides to run away. In this rash act he is joined 
by a comrade, Joe Harper, whose mother had 
whipped him for some spilt cream — an offence com- 
mitted by the cat, and that happy vagabond — 
Huckleberry Finn, who inhabited an empty hogs- 
head, and was perfectly free to camp out with his 
friends. 

Having stolen provisions, and floated down the 
Mississippi River on a raft, the outcasts have great 


242 


TOM SAWYER AGAIN ASSISTS HICKS 


sport for a time, until the adventure palls on them, 
homesickness assails, and open revolt threatens. 
Then Tom Sawyer, v^ho, like T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., had inspirations, was smitten with a big idea — 
the townspeople believed them drowned, for they had 
heard cannon fired over the water to bring them to 
the surface, and one night Tom had gone home, and 
had overheard his family extolling his virtues, so — 
they would stay in hiding a day or so, and — attend 
their own funeral! 

It was a ramification of this plan that now at- 
tacked Hicks, about to invade Butch’s room, and 
gladden him with the news of his escape. Now that 
the campus knew he had been abducted by Roddy 
and his henchmen, he would take the affair in hand, 
and enshroud himself in excessive mystery. He 
would disappear from sight — not a soul would know 
his whereabouts — until the night of the banquet, 
when he would dramatically appear in the banquet 
hall of the Main Court Inn, and preside at the feast 
of 1919 

‘‘Great joy!” breathed Hicks, inspired. “Why — 
my class, and the Juniors and Seniors, will believe 
that the Freshmen have me a prisoner in some safe 
hiding place, and — it is a sure thing that Roddy and 
his comrades, when I don’t show up, will not explain 
how I escaped their clutches. Thus — the three up- 
per classes will confidently believe that the Fresh- 


243 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


men have me in captivity, and 1920 will be sure that 
my class knows where I am — that, to make sure of 
being present at the banquet, I am hiding, to avoid 
the risk of a second kidnapping. Then — at a dra- 
matic moment during the feast. Til appear most 
theatrically, paralyzing the Sophomores.’’ 

For a time Hicks hesitated, for he was reluctant 
to cause his good comrade. Butch Brewster, and his 
faithful friend, Theophilus Opperdyke, such intense 
worry. However, the temptation to mystify the col- 
lege by his unheralded appearance at the banquet, 
when no one knew where he had been since Friday 
at nine-thirty, except a few Freshmen, and their 
knowledge would end with the inspection of the va- 
cant room Saturday morning, was too great. The 
irrepressible youth dearly loved to do dramatic and 
sensational stunts, so he decided his friends must 
survive the worry — and the subsequent shock. 

‘T’ll slip in my room,” he grinned to himself. 
‘‘Get my dress suit, and a few books; then I’ll go 
down to the Main Court Inn, get Mr. Roberts, the 
night clerk, to swear secrecy, and Mr Clendenning 
likewise, in the morning! I’ll get a room there, and 
stay in it until the banquet starts — then, I’ll appear 
at the festal board, somewhat like Banquo’s ghost. 
Oh, it will be a jolly lark, but ” 

It suddenly impressed the gleeful Hicks that there 
would be handicaps, too, as well as gladsome 


244 


TOM SAWYER AGAIN ASSISTS HICKS 


features, to this mysterious adventure. To remain 
in a hotel room from Saturday at 4 a. m. to Mon- 
day at 8 p. for an ebullient-spirited youth like 
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., would require a mighty ef- 
fort of the will. Yet, buoyed up by the knowledge 
that he was mystifying the Freshmen, and that his 
appearance at the banquet would cause a sensation 
unparalleled in campus history, the sunny Sopho- 
more resolved to endure the voluntary exile. 

Entering his room noiselessly, the incorrigible 
Hicks seized a battered old suitcase, threw a few 
text-books into it hastily, dragged out an evening 
suit — used in the Glee Club musicales, and packed 
it away carefully. All the Sophomores would 
wear dress suits — mostly hired for the occasion — 
and the president of 1919 wished to be strictly in 
Style. 

‘‘The plot thickens!’’ Hicks whispered melodra- 
matically, as he stole from his room — not a heinous 
offence, since it was his den from which he per- 
formed the deed. ''Ooh! Think of it — in a hotel 
room till Monday night! Well, I’ll sneak out after 
midnight, and get some fresh air! Anyhow — the 
‘game is well worth the candle’ — ^I’ll be rewarded, 
when I behold the joyous bewilderment of my class- 
mates.” 

Disaster threatened the happy-go-lucky Hicks, as 
he crept down the corridor toward the stairway,. 


17 


245 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


bearing the suitcase. Passing the room of little 
Theophilus Opperdyke, the Sophomore leader was 
dismayed when the door opened, and the Human 
Encyclopedia peered owlishly out at him, over his 
big-rimmed spectacles. Theophilus, who could have 
passed any examination without ever reviewing the 
term’s work, nevertheless, always boned until the 
small hours of the morning, for a week before the 
tests, fearful that he might fail. 

‘‘Hicks !” he exclaimed, startled. “Why, w-what — 
are you going to do ? I ” 

To the timorous grind’s alarm, Hicks seized him, 
pushed him somewhat violently into the room, and 
closed the door. Appalled by the mysterious ac- 
tions of his firm friend, yet perfectly sure he was in 
no peril from the sunny youth’s hands, Theophilus 
stared solemnly at the now grinning Hicks, as he 
raised his right arm dramatically. 

“Swear — !” sibilated Hicks impressively. “Swear, 
Theophilus, by your honor as a Sophomore, that you 
will not tell a soul you saw me! Vow that what I 
shall now disclose to you shall be kept an eternal 
secret, that not threats nor force shall wring it from 
your sealed lips!” 

“I — I p-promise, Hicks!” quavered Theophilus, 
firmly deluded that his scatterbrained comrade had 
committed some awful offence, and was forced to 
leave college in the dead of night. “Oh, Hicks — 

246 


TOM SAWYER AGAIN ASSISTS HICKS 

you — you. Oh, what have you done? If I can do 

anything for you, Hicks, you know I will ” 

‘'Bosh, Theophilus!’’ responded Hicks, beaming 
on his companion, and exceedingly touched by his 
devotion. “Listen, and I will a tale unfold that will 
make every hair of thine stand on its head — or 
yours ! I want you to help me pull ofif a stunt, old 

chap, a great one — no harm in it at all, so heed 

Quickly the mosquito-like youth outlined his great 
plan — having briefly explained the shanghaiing, 
and that he had escaped, but omitting to tell how he 
‘played Houdini.’ He informed the irnmensely re- 
lieved Theophilus of his idea — to swear the Main 
Court Inn Manager and the night clerk to absolute 
secrecy, get a room, and stay in concealment until 
the banquet, when he would sensationally appear on 
the scene. 

“It’s the thing to do, anyway, Hicks !” commented 
little Theophilus, overjoyed at Hicks’ escape. “Even 
if you had told Butch and our class about it, you 
should have done this same thing, to prevent being 
kidnapped again. But, since you want to keep every- 
one from knowing you have escaped, for as you say, 
Roddy won’t tell of it. Butch must suffer suspense, 
for the sake of your joke. I’ll not say a word, 
Hicks — you know you may depend on me !” 

“Good!” declared Hicks, patting his loyal friend 
on the shoulder. “And listen, Theophilus — you come 


247 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


to my room every night, about ten o'clock. I'll tell 
the night clerk and Mr. Clendenning that you are in 
the plot, and they will smuggle you to my boudoir. 
Don't let anyone see you, or everything will be 
spoiled. You can keep me posted as to develop- 
ments on the campus, and remember — you have 
sworn secrecy!" 

Leaving Theophilus Opperdyke, the timorous 
Human Encyclopedia, quivering with excitement be- 
cause he was actually aiding the great Hicks to 
achieve a wonderful stunt, and proud that he was 
the Sophomore leader’s only confidante, though but 
an insignificant boner, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., noise- 
lessly made his way down the stairs. 

When the sunny-natured Sophomore had left the 
campus, and was trudging through the snow, down 
the deserted, silent Main Street, he breathed freely 
again. He knew that Theophilus Opperdyke would 
guard his secret faithfully, and that Messrs. Roberts 
and Clendenning would gladly assist his mysterious 
disappearance. Only the thought of those long, 
dreary hours of solitude, a virtual prisoner in the 
Main Court Inn, haunted the irrepressible Hicks. 

‘‘Anyhow," he chuckled, seeing the silver lining 
to that particular cloud on the horizon of his care- 
free existence, ‘T have my books here, and oodles 
of time, so if I don't pass some brilliant exams next 
week, it will not be because I did not study/' 


248 


CHAPTER XIX 

HICKS EXPLAINS 

M r. PERCIVAL MONTMORENCY CLEN- 
DENNING (startling, but true!) — man- 
ager of the Main Court Inn, seated in a swivel chair, 
with his carpet-slippered feet atop of the desk — in 
the lobby of that caravansary, at a quarter to four, 
Saturday morning, was enjoying life, and a news- 
paper. Hearing footsteps he glanced up in surprise, 
to behold a debonair youth with the proportions of 
a juvenile Jersey mosquito, sauntering toward him 
— bearing a suitcase. 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., for it was the blithesome 
Sophomore, approached the desk, extreme dignity 
exuding from every pore ; reaching the dazed Man- 
ager, he handed his suitcase to an imaginary “bell- 
hop,” to whom he flipped an equally imaginary coin, 
and with an intensely haughty demeanor, he ad- 
dressed Mr. P. M. Clendenning. 


249 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


am His Highness, the High Cockalorum of 
Afghanistan!” he announced imperiously. ‘‘I am 
touring the United States, studying the farming 
systems of Broadway, Ohio, and the Arizona desert. 
I wish a suite of rooms for myself and my train 1” 

Mr. Percival Montmorency Clendenning, a stout- 
ish, jovial young man whose most reprehensible 
habits were wearing red neckties, perpetrating far- 
fetched puns, and reading the New York Journal, 
joyously abandoned the last named dissipation, to 
engage in the second. He was a graduate — through 
the grace of the Faculty — of Bannister College, and 
accordingly, was well acquainted with the weird 
speech and actions of that strange being — the col- 
legian. The irrepressible Hicks was a great fav- 
orite of his, so he at once arose and dived into the 
spirit of the occasion. 

‘‘Greetings, your Altitude !” he responded solemn- 
ly, making a profound salaam. ‘T regret that while 
I can give you a suite — probably Suite Sixteen, be- 
cause of your youthful appearance — I am unable to 
accommodate your train. I suggest that you go to 
the depot and converse with the station master — per- 
haps he can sidetrack your train for the night, and 
keep track of it for you.” 

The blithesome Hicks, dropping his suitcase, and 
his atmosphere of dignity, assumed an intensely 
mysterious appearance, and after gazing all around 


250 


HICKS EXPLAINS 

the lobby, looking under a chair, and peering cau- 
tiously into the inkwell, to make sure they were not 
being spied upon, he leaned over the desk. 

‘‘Hist!’’ he sibilated tensely. “Heed, Mr Clenden- 
ning — I have a dark plot on foot, and I need your 
aid. Listen to what I reveal, and then, if you have 
the courage to aid me in this desperate deed — swear 
secrecy, and we shall proceed with the melodrama — 
‘The Shanghaied Sophomore !’ ” 

Carefully, the heedless youth explained to the 
Manager how he had been spirited from the Ban- 
nister campus on Friday night, and that he had suc- 
ceeded in escaping from his captors, though, as with 
Theophilus Opperdyke, he avoided outlining his 
method of leaving Roddy Perkins’ watchful care. 
Then he confided in the interested Mr. P. M. Clen- 
denning the Tom Sawyer idea he wished to carry 
out, in modified form, and he made the Falstaffian 
young man realize how fervently Hicks desired to 
make a sensationally dramatic appearance at the 
1919 Banquet Monday night 

“Great !” commented the interested Mr. Clenden- 
ning delightedly. “Simply great ^ Hicks 1 It can be 
done with ease — I’ll give you a room on the fourth 
floor, and no one will ever find you. Mr. Roberts — 
who was sick tonight, and so I am taking his place, 
will come on at noon today — I’ll swear him to ab- 
solute secrecy, and also the chambermaid who cleans 


251 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


the room. Til have your meals sent to your boudoir, 
and won't charge extra for the service — it will be 
my contribution to the joke. Oh, it's a good one, 
so count on me to engineer it successfully!" 

‘‘Thanks, awfully!" grinned Hicks, confident that 
the Main Court Inn Manager would help him carry 
the affair through. “And about my unheralded ap- 
pearance at the banquet, Mr. Clendenning? How 
can I arrange to appear suddenly on the scene, with- 
out any of my class having seen me? Besides — a 
number of Freshmen always hang around the cor- 
ridor, and look in at the festal board, so I might get 

captured again. If I could only " 

The genial Mr. Clendenning suddenly became as 
mysterious as the scatterbrained Hicks had been. 
His finger placed on his lips — to indicate the need 
of caution — he gazed at the care-free collegian in a 
manner which he was firmly deluded was dramatic, 
but which excessively resembled that of a cow yearn- 
ingly regarding a garden of rising young vegetables, 
“Hicks," he breathed, in a low, tense voice, “/ 
know how that can be done. Don't worry for a 
second — on Monday night, just before the banquet, 
I shall guide you safely to a place from which you 
can, unobserved, watch the proceedings, and — at the 
psychological moment — announce your presence. 
And you will not be in the least peril of being shang- 
haied again, as you enter the hall. Oho! Don't 


252 


HICKS EXPLAINS 


question me — you are perpetrating a mystery, so / 
shall baffle you a while, but — just trust me V 

So it came to pass that T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., 
was comfortably ensconced on the fourth floor of 
the Main Court Inn, his room being as sunny and 
cheerful as his own happy-go-lucky nature. It com- 
manded a view of Main Street, looking toward the 
campus, up College Hill — and the exuberant youth, 
during the days of his voluntary captivity, frequent- 
ly saw his classmates pass by — big Butch Brewster, 
Pudge, Beef, the lengthy Ichabod and others. He 
knew that many of 1919 were often in the hotel 
decorating the hall for the banquet, or attending to 
the multifarious details of the approaching spread. 

Also — one afternoon from behind the lace cur- 
tains, he glimpsed Roddy Perkins, escorted by Biff 
Pemberton, and Hefty Hollingsworth, strolling 
down the street. The delighted Hicks straightway 
went into a paroxysm of riotous laughter, rolling on 
the bed until he was too weak to indulge in further 
mirth — he was so near his companions of old Ban- 
nister, gazing down at them, and yet — no one but 
Theophilus knew where he was. 

If Mr. Thomas Haviland Hicks, Sr., who was 
destined to be much elated at his son’s brilliant 
achievements in the second term examinations, had 
known the cause of that sensational scholastic record, 
he would have rejoiced at the ancient Bannister 


253 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


tradition responsible for it. With time weighing on 
his hands like tons of pig iron, the sunny youth be- 
trayed a tender devotion to his books, with the sub- 
sequent result that he paralyzed Butch Brewster, 
and won the Faculty plaudits, by his almost perfect 
examination papers the next week. 

‘‘I suppose/’ murmured the debonair exile, on 
Saturday night, as he retired, ‘‘that this escapade of 
mine will just about devour the rest of my allow- 
ance for this month. However, it’s in a good cause, 
but — my Dad ought to reimburse me for this ex- 
pense, since I most surely will know every question 
fired at me on the second-term exams.” 

Theophilus Opperdyke, thrilled with the delightful 
sensation of actually participating in a real mystery, 
originated and executed by the great T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., performed his humble part nobly. Each 
night, after taking ludicrously elaborate precautions 
to make sure he was unobserved, the excited little 
grind made his way stealthily to Hicks’ room, to 
post his jocund friend on campus happenings. 

As the 1919 leader had prophesied — the Fresh- 
men who knew of Hicks’ shanghaiing on Friday 
night imitated the famous Sphinx; Roddy and his 
aides were absolutely silent, so that the three upper- 
classes firmly deluded themselves that the festive 
youth was a prisoner in the hands of 1920. The 
Juniors and Seniors ridiculed and jeered Hicks’ 


254 


HICKS EXPLAINS 


classmates unmercifully, and the downcast - Sopho- 
mores, wholly unable to find even a clue as to his 
whereabouts, were enshrouded in profoundest 
gloom. 

‘^Roddy and his henchmen won’t say a word of 
my escape,” Hicks gleefully informed the owlish 
Theophilus, on Sunday night, ‘‘because — first, they 
want to stave off ridicule as long as possible, and 
second — they will hope until the last that they may 
find and kidnap me again. They are desperate, know- 
ing how the jeers they thought I would receive will 
be outpoured on their devoted heads. Oh, it’s so 
funny — the Freshmen are wild to come across me, 
and my class, also seek the missing Hicks !” 

“Bull Tucker vows he heard you singing, Hicks,” 
volunteered Theophilus, timorously, “early Satur- 
day morning — down in the Quadrangle, but all the 
fellows laugh at him, and say he was dreaming.” 

The developments of his Tom Sawyer plot quite 
satisfied the fun-loving youth. To know that the 
Sophomores believed the Freshmen were hiding the 
1919 president, and that, contrariwise, the first year 
leaders thought that their enemies knew of Hicks’ 
escape, and were keeping him safely concealed, 
against another shanghaiing, with the upper-class- 
men puzzled also, was most laughter provok- 
ing. Then, as Theophilus gravely assured him that 
his mysterious absence was quite the sensation of 


255 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


the campus, Hicks felt fully recompensed for his 
financial expenditures, and the weary hours of wait- 
ing, required by his escapade. 

However, with books and magazines supplied by 
the helpful Mr. Clendenning, and a commendable 
application to his classwork, T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., passed the time away cheerfully and profitably, 
and seven o’clock, Monday night, came at last. At 
that hour the wrought-up Sophomore, attired in a 
dress suit, paced up and down before the window of 
his room, as excitedly as a nocturnal Thomas-cat on 
a back fence — ^peering through the lace curtains, and 
beholding the noisy members of 1919, as they came 
rioting down from the campus. 

Good old Dan Flannagan’s antique hack, drawn 
by the somnolent Lord Nelson, after first bringing 
down the class officers — Butch Brewster, Pudge 
Langdon, Beef McNaughton, Ichabod and Theo- 
philus Opperdyke — minus their president, the miss- 
ing Hicks, made innumerable round trips. The 
Palace Stables tallyho, loaded with singing, yelling 
youths, somewhat stiff and self-conscious in their 
unaccustomed regalia of dress suits, drew up before 
the Main Court Inn with a flourish. The cabs and 
’buses from the station did a thriving business, since 
no Sophomore would deign to walk to or from the 
class banquet. 

Waving Maroon and Gray pennants and banners, 
256 


HICKS EXPLAINS 


inscribed ‘‘1919/’ ^‘Bannister, 1919,’’ or ‘The Class 
of ’19/' the clamorous Sophomores swarmed from 
the vehicles of transportation, and invaded the cara- 
vansary. T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., looked down on 
them, and literally hugged himself in delighted an- 
ticipation — what a sensation he would create when 
he appeared! But — how was the Manager to ar- 
range the climax, and where was he ? 

‘There’ll be Freshmen outside the door,” meditat- 
ed the nervous Hicks, resuming his promenade, “and 
if I try to enter they may make off with me, before 
my classmates know what is up. Oh, why don’t he 
come, and ” 

A knock sounded, and Hicks, opening the door a 
cautious crack, beheld Mr. Percival Montmorency 
Clendenning, with his expansive grin and inevitable 
red tie, in the corridor. The jovial manager of the 
Main Court Inn beamed at the exceedingly bewil- 
dered collegian, beckoned him to follow, and as they 
tiptoed down the hall, toward the rear of the hotel, 
he whispered theatrically : 

“Just trust me! If you don’t present me with a 
gold medal, Hicks, for my ingenuity in arranging 
this thrilling tableau, then I miss my guess. No one 
from Bannister will see you, and there will surely 
be a tremendous sensation at that spread, when you 
keep your promise, and appear at the 1919 ban- 
quet.” 


257 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Descending by the freight elevator, the bewildered 
Hicks was escorted by Mr. P. M. Clendenning to the 
rear of the banquet hall of the Main Court Inn, on 
the second floor. Here they entered a small room, 
to which ran the dumbwaiter from the kitchen be- 
low, bringing up the food and dishes for banquets — 
this adjoined the hall, and here the viands were laid 
out, ready to be served. There was no connecting 
door, but an opening in the wall, two feet square, 
like a window-frame, through which the dishes were 
passed from the laying-out tables to the waiters on 
the main floor. Concealed in the small apartment, 
the blithesome youth could watch his feasting class- 
mates without being suspected. 

‘‘There!’’ exclaimed Mr. Percival Montmorency 
Clendenning, with pardonable pride. “Have I not 
kept my word, Hicks — although I gave it to you? 
You remain here until the psychological moment ar- 
rives, then — thrust your head through this window, 
and most sensationally paralyze the assemblage. I’ve 
bribed the helpers in here to keep the secret, so all 
is in readiness for the great climax.” 

“It’s splendid !” chortled the delighted Hicks. “It 
couldn’t be better. Mr. Clendenning, accept my 
unanimous vote of thanks, please! If you, as Man- 
ager, can manage to be in the banquet hall when I 
make my debut, it will be worth seeing.” 

The highly excited Hicks was not forced to wait 

258 


HICKS EXPLAINS 


long — by eight o’clock the Sophomores, worried- 
looking in their dress suits and stiff white shirts, had 
taken their places at the long tables, and the 1919 
banquet was ready to start. At the far end of the 
hall, crowded in the doorway Roddy Perkins, and 
several other Freshmen, utterly bewildered at Hicks’ 
absence, hovered, while a few interested upper-class- 
men awaited developments. 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., grinned ecstatically as he 
listened to the snatches of conversation that drifted 
to him — he was the main topic, conjectures as to 
where he could be were made, comments on the 
failure of the Freshmen to exult. It was a sort of 
deadlock — the Sophomores, still positive Hicks was 
a prisoner of 1920, did not exult, and Roddy’s fol- 
lowers, expecting to behold the banqueters hilari- 
ously produce their leader, were certainly not ready 
to become riotous. Only the quivering Theophilus 
Opperdyke knew the truth, and he was not aware 
of how the missing Hicks would appear — possibly 
he would materialize before them, like a ghost. 

Suddenly the class song of 1919 thundered out 
by eighty lusty-lunged Sophomores, echoed in the 
hall 

“ ’Ray ! ’Ray ’Ray ! For the dear old Maroon 
and Gray ! 

We’ll drink a toast to old Nineteen — so glad, 
so bright, so gay ! 


259 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


In everything we will surpass — we are a 
great and glorious class — 

Our colors shall triumphant wave, in every- 
thing we do ! 

When from our college we must go, 

We’ll surely let the whole world know — 

That to the dear Maroon and Gray, we 
always shall be true !” 

Butch Brewster, at the conclusion of the chorus, 
arose. He surveyed the banquet hall, gayly deco- 
rated with Maroon and Gray, the 1919 colors — he 
gazed at the festal board, with gleaming silverware 
and white napery, he looked sadly at his silent class- 
mates in their evening suits. At his command, as 
toastmaster, in the absence of the missing Hicks, the 
Sophomores slowly raised their glasses of grape 
juice. 

toast!’’ proposed Butch, in deep melancholy. 
‘'A toast to the absent. It is the custom first to 
toast our president, who then becomes toastmaster. 
Fellow Sophomores, our leader has been captured 
by the Freshmen — 1919 for once, is defeated. 
Gentlemen, I give you — ^to the gayest, sunniest, abso- 
lutely the finest fellow at Bannister, our own beloved 

Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr. 1 Drink to ” 

‘‘Wait!” shouted a familiar voice. “/ will drink 
that toast. Sophomores! I said I would preside at 
this banquet, and — here I am/^ 

The startled Sophomores, and the collegians in 


260 


HICKS EXPLAINS 


the doorway, stared in absolute stupefaction at T. 
Haviland Hicks, Jr.’s grinning countenance, as it 
appeared, framed in that opening. Though he in- 
tensely resembled — in all but color — the well known 
negro who thrusts his head through a hole in a can- 



“‘Wait!’ shouted a familiar voice. ‘I will drink that 
toast, Sophomores!”’ 


vas sheet, and dodges baseballs, seen at county fairs 
and circuses, the sensational appearance of the miss- 
ing Hicks paralyzed the beholders, and the effect 
left nothing to be desired. 

“Hicks !” was the cry, swelling to a mighty roar.. 
“It’s Hicks, fellows — Hicks! Rah for T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr. — president of ’19. We have beaten the 
Freshmen ! Hicks ! Hicks ! Hicks !” 

In one great rush, the hilarious Sophomores 

18 261 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


charged en masse for that square window in the 
wall — Butch and Pudge pulled the festive youth’s 
string-bean anatomy through it, heedless of dishes, 
and then — pummeled, thumped uproariously, his 
hand shaken almost off, the leader of 1919 was fran- 
tically received by his joyous classmates. After be- 
ing borne around the hall several times on the shoul- 
ders of his behemoth comrades, he was set down at 
the head of the banquet board by a madly howling 
crowd, and'— beaming with an innocent pleasure at 
the unqualified success of his plot, T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr. — in answer to frenzied shouts, made a 
■speech. 

First, he related the events of Friday night, when 
he was shanghaied by Roddy Perkins and his aides; 
he related, also, how he was placed in the room that 
had no windows, and the two bolts on the outside 
■of the door. Then, knowing how his curious class- 
mates and the Freshmen in the doorway were wild 
to know how he had escaped from a room seem- 
ingly impossible of exit, he deliberately omitted 
that chapter, jumping over to his conversation 
with Theophilus, after his inspiration, and tell- 
ing of Mr. Clendenning’s valuable aid in the 
joke. 

“Hicks, how did you escape?” roared Butch 
Brewster ominously, and the question was hurled at 
the heedless Hicks from all sides. “Tell us, you 


262 


HICKS EXPLAINS 


pestersome torment, or we’ll throw you out of this 
banquet hall.” 

The cherubic youth, delighted at the mental tor- 
ture of his friends looked toward the doorway, where 
Roddy, Bob Thomas, Biff, Hefty and others of the 
Freshmen stood, eagerly awaiting the explanation. 
He knew that ever since they found the room empty, 
with the door still bolted on the outside, the 1920 
quartette must have suffered terribly, unable to guess 
how he had escaped after their precautions, which 
had seemed to render a guard unnecessary. 

“Come in a few seconds, Roddy,” he called, beck- 
oning them. “Bring your shanghaiers, too ! I want 
you, Hefty, to hear how I played Houdini, so you 
won’t jeer at the newspaper articles you read of the 
Handcuff King, when he makes his jail deliveries.” 

When the four bewildered Freshmen had ap- 
proached the tables, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., fairly 
reveling in the mystery he had aroused, condescend- 
ed to shed a great light on the darkness that en- 
shrouded his wonderful escape from the room in 
Judge Thomas’ country place. After all, that was 
the big mystery — how he made his exit, and not how 
he had disappeared after his French leave. 

“I have told you where I was taken fellows,” he 
addressed his classmates, “and how, at midnight 
Friday, I was placed in a room that had no win- 
dows, and the door of which was fastened with two 

263 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

strong bolts on the exterior. Well, after being in- 
carcerated, I gazed at the door for awhile, and finally 
it dawned on me that — its hinges were on the inside, 
that is — the door opened toward the interior of the 
room. 

‘‘When I believed my captors asleep, I used the 
screw-driver blade of my combination knife; I sim- 
ply unscrewed the ends of the hinges that were fas- 
tened to the door frame, that, of course, left one end 
of each hinge still screwed to the door itself, and the 
other free. Naturally, the hinges were on the left 
side of the door, inside, as I faced outward, while 
the two bolts, on the outside, as I still faced the same 
way, were on the right side of the door, near the 
knob. 

“Luckily, the bolts did not fit too tightly in their 
sockets. So, when I got the door unhinged, I was 
able to pry it out a trifle, so that it was a fraction of 
an inch clear of the door frame, at the side where the 
hinges are. There was a space to each side of the 
door, so all I had to do with the hinges free of the 
frame, and the door itself clear so it could be slid 
along the wall, away from where the bolts fitted, was 
to pidl the door along the wall. 

“That is, friends and — Freshmen, I pulled the 
unhinged door in the opposite direction from the way 
the bolts were shot to lock it, with the door flat 
against the wall, after clearing the frame by a small 

264 


HICKS EXPLAINS 


margin. Naturally, this drew the bolts from their 
‘‘keepers’^ on the door frame, outside, as I drew the 
door away from the bolt-keepers, instead of drawing 
the bolt alone. As I drew the door gently away, the 
bolts were drawn, and — I was free, with the door- 
in my hands, it also being untrammeled. 

‘‘But — desiring to make a most mystifying escape, 
I put the door back on the hinges again, walked out, 
and before I left, I again shot the bolts. Since the 
screws worked easily and the bolts fitted a trifle 
loosely in their holders, no especially noticeable 
marks were left, and I believe my captors were some- 
what puzzled when, after finding the bolts still in- 
tact, and the door barred from without, they failed 
to hnd me inside 

When the uproar that followed this excessively 
simple explanation of a seemingly baffling mystery 
had somewhat subsided, some one began to chant — 
“For He's A Jolly Good Fellow — !" and the song 
was roared lustily. Under cover of the noise, James 
Roderick Perkins, admiration written on his honest 
countenance, held out his hand to T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr. and expressed his defeat. 

“You are a wonder, old man!" he said emphati- 
cally. “Frankly, we were sure escape was impossi- 
ble! We Freshmen are going to defeat you Sophs 
in the four contests of the year, but — you surely out- 
witted us this time." 


265 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Before the four Freshmen left the banquet hall, 
amid the riotous shouts of the exuberant second-year 
collegians, Hicks grinned at big Hefty Hollings- 
worth who was staring at the shadow-like youth in 
unconcealed wonder. 

‘‘Say, Hefty — ’’ chuckled Hicks, vastly amused, 
^^do you believe nozv that Houdini, the Handcuff 
King can escape from a prison cell, the door of 
which is fastened with a modern lock, after he has 
been stripped and searched before being incarcer- 
ated?’’ 

The behemoth Freshmen shrugged his ponderous 
shoulders and gazed at T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. a 
few moments before he made an answer that aroused 
a wild outburst of glee from the banqueting Sopho- 
mores. 

‘T don’t know about Houdini,” he responded at 
last sheepishly. ‘‘But one thing I do know, fellows 
— put Hicks in an iron safe, lock it, tie six tons of 
pig iron to it, and dump the whole business over- 
board from a ship in the exact middle of the At- 
lantic Ocean, and — Hicks would be on the dock in 
New York waiting that same craft when it landed!” 


CHAPTER XX 

HICKS READS AN OLD LETTER 

‘^Oh, father and mother pay all the bills, 

And we have all the fun — 

In these happy, golden days of college life — !” 

T HAVILAND hicks, JR., strolling across 
* the Quadrangle toward Smithson, one balmy 
early June afternoon at four o'clock, warbled ecstat- 
ically as he thrilled with the jocund spirit of glad- 
some springtime. He paused suddenly in his 
Caruso-like endeavors, at the dormitory entrance, 
for on the door was posted a typewritten announce- 
ment which he read : 

NOTICE! To the CLASS of ^9! Tomorrow Is the 
Annual Sophomore-Freshman Baseball Game I The 
Freshmen have won the Class Rush and the Football 
Contest! WE took the Track Meet! We MUST NOT 
let 1920 win the last event and the year's honors by a 
Victory tomorrow! To Tie the Score — '19 MUST WIN 
the Baseball Game ! 

Let EVERY SOPHOMORE be on Bannister Field at 
267 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


4.15 P. M. today — to try for the class nine! We want 
enough for two teams — ^"for a snappy practice game ! Be- 
cause of exams we have not been able to muster a big 
Squad! Today is our LAST CHANCE — we need the 
BEST NINE we can pick ! Show your Class Spirit — re- 
port at 4.15 P. M. — everyone will be given a tryout! 
Signed: Captain Butch Brewster, 1919. 

It was two days before Commencement, and near 
the end of the blithesome Hicks’ Sophomore exist- 
ence. Thanks to his usual spring study sprint, the 
1919 leader had been well crammed for the final 
examination, and the naturally brilliant youth was 
fairly sure of finishing second to Theophilus Opper- 
dyke, the human encyclopedia, in class standing. A 
week more, and the present Seniors — good-natured 
Bull Tucker, kindly Parson Parmalee and the rest — 
would go forth from the campus, after four golden 
years, to become true Sons of old Bannister. 

^‘Why, ril soon be a Junior!” meditated the hap- 
py-go-lucky Hicks, as he climbed the stairway of 
Smithson, to his room. ^'The gladdest, j oiliest year 
of all. ril twang my banjo and sing, T’m a Junior, 
Jolly junior,’ until Butch threatens to annihilate me. 
I must be care-free and jocund next year, for after 
it. I’ll be a grave, dignified Senior.” 

During the weeks after his sensational escape 
from Roddy Perkins, and the shanghaiing members 
of 1920, by which he had adorned his classic brow 
with the laurel wreath of Fame, T. Haviland Hicks, 


268 


HICKS READS AN OLD LETTER 


Jr., much to the infinite wrath of his loyal friend, 
Butch Brewster, had yielded himself to a most 
Hypeborean existence, which, translated into Eng- 
lish, means a glorious good time. 

Twanging his beloved banjo, roaring excessively 
sentimental ballads, playing host to his innumerable 
comrades, pestering the campus in general, and 
entertaining the Hicks’ Personally Conducted Tours 
downtown at Jerry’s, on hilarious beef-steak busts, 
these were the intensely important affairs that 
bothered his infinitessimal mind. To the humorous 
dismay of the collegians, the debonair youth’s most 
weighty thoughts were devoted to his sartorial ap- 
pearance ; in brief, with the advent of springtime, he 
blossomed forth so radiantly that Solomon, in all 
his glory, was again eclipsed. 

“I know what I’ll do,” grinned the irrepressible 
Hicks, as he dived into his closet. “I’ll array my- 
self in my last spring’s suit, which is a clamorous 
one, and I didn’t wear it often — select my noisiest 
tie, my Panama hat and tan Oxfords, and — twirling 
the class cane, to top me off — I’ll saunter out on 
Bannister Field. Won’t Butch and the fellows 
storm when I nonchalantly stroll up and remark: 
‘Aw, there, deah owld chaps — ^blawstedly cleah 
weathah, don’t-cha know !’ ” 

As the inspired youth dragged forth the suit in 
question, whichy as regards sobriety of appearance, 


269 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


was questionable, he felt something crackle in one 
of the pockets. Upon investigation, he found a 
letter, dated the previous May, and post-marked 
‘'Pittsburgh,'’ while in the upper left-hand corner 
of the envelope was printed, “Return in Five Days 
to — Thomas Haviland Hicks, Sr., 225 Bankers’ 
Building, Pittsburgh, Pa.” 

Slowly, the blithesome expression on his face 
changing to one of thoughtfulness, for he remem- 
bered this epistle, the shadow-like Sophomore drew 
out the folded sheet, a trifle tattered, and perused 
the contents. For a time he was silent, gazing at 
the bold, clear handwriting, then he scanned the 
message again. Some passages he skimmed over 
quickly, others, more important, he read aloud: 

— As you must know, it has always been a 
cause of keen regret to me that you have never 
seemed to care for athletics of any sort — you ap- 
pear to be too indolent and ease-loving to sacri- 
fice, or to endure the hardships of training. I 
suppose it is because of my athletic record, both 
at Bannister and at old Yale, that I am so eager 
to see you become a star; in fact, it is my lifers 
most cherished ambition to have you become as 
famous as your Dad ! 

— However, I realize that my fond dream can 
never become true — Nature has not made you 
naturally strong and athletic, and what athletic 
success you may gain must come from long and 
hard training, and practice. If you can only win 


270 


HICKS READS AN OLD LETTER 


your college letter, your B — Thomas, while at 
Bannister, I shall be fully content. 

‘‘ — I must admit that I am disappointed, for 
you have not even made an earnest effort to find 
your event. Often, by trying everything, espe- 
cially in a track meet, a fellow ‘finds his event,’ 
and later stars in it ! — If you want to please me, 
start now, and try to find your event — attempt all 
the sports, all the various track and field events, 
and always build yourself up by exercise in the 
Gym. 

“ — I don’t ask you to do this, Thomas — I only 
say that it will make me happy, just to know that 
you are striving! I*f you never get beyond the 
scrubs, just to hear you are serving the Gold and 
Green, giving your best, in that humble, unhon- 
ored way, will please me! And if, before you 
graduate, you can win your B, I will be so glad ! 
Don’t get discouraged — it may take until your 
Senior year, but if you once start — stick ! Your 
loving — 

Dad.’^ 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., stood, gazing at his 
father’s letter, which he had received the previous 
spring. It had been this message, revealing to the 
heedless youth just how ambitious his beloved Dad 
was to have him win his B, that had inspired Hicks 
to become a general pest in the Freshman-Sopho- 
more track meet. He had earnestly tried to ‘‘find 
his event,” entering every one on the program, and 
making a hilarious fiasco of them all. Yet he had 
cleared six feet in the pole vault, and that ludicrous 


271 



\ 




HICKS READS AN OLD LETTER 


height gave him third place, for but three vaulters 
were entered, and 

‘‘My third-place points,” Hicks murmured. 
^'Won the meet for ’19, for the pole vault decided 
the final score, and even my insignificant effort gave 
my class a margin of one point. Had I mot made 
even that ridiculous height, I would not have been 
entitled to third place, and ’19 would have lost.” 

Fortune, or Fate — as Butch Brewster, in the 
light of subsequent paralyzing events, emphatically 
vowed it was — had caused the care-free Hicks to 
find this old letter, just as he started out to torment 
his toiling classmates. Now, however, with all 
thoughts of his gleeful plot forgotten, the medita- 
tive youth stared at a picture on the wall — of a 
splendidly built athlete, with broad shoulders, a 
strong countenance, and a determined jaw; he was 
in football togs, with a big Y on his sweater. 

His Dad, the greatest all-round athlete Bannister 
ever knew, the famous Yale fullback, sprinter and 
baseball star, Thomas Haviland Hicks, Sr., whose 
prowess on gridiron, diamond and track — first for 
the Gold and Green, later for the Blue: — had won 
him a lasting fame, far greater than had his success 
in life, which had made him a millionaire. His 
well-loved Dad, whose most dearly cherished ambi- 
tion was for his only son to follow in his footsteps, 
to win athletic victories for Bannister, and for Yale. 


273 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


“Butch is right,'' groaned the remorseful Hicks, 
remembering his comrade’s frequent but futile lec- 
tures. “Here I have pursued an indolent career, 
too lazy to stick at athletic work, and my Dad is so 
anxious — just to have me win my B. I have loafed 
around, pestering the campus, chasing down to 
Jerry’s for the ^eats,’ arraying myself like a lily of 
the field, and never once thinking of Dad’s greatest 
ambition.” 

The erstwhile hilarious Hicks was conscience- 
smitten. Hozv had he responded to this appeal, the 
last his father had made? After the class track 
meet, in his Freshman year, he had done nothing — 
he had not, in his Sophomore career, tried football, 
basketball or track — why. Coach Corridan, in Hick’s 
memorably all-round fiasco on the cinderpath, had 
prophesied a future for him in the high jump, be- 
cause of his natural “form,” yet, the sunny youth 
had been too indolent and ease-loving to buckle 
down and train, to exercise for the needed strength, 
and to perfect himself in this event. 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., profoundly stirred by 
his father’s appeal, was intensely serious. That let- 
ter was a year old — how regretful his Dad must be 
now, when his son, at the end of his Sophomore 
year, had made no further effort to win his B. 
Then — Hicks’ mental vision pictured a scene, when 
he had shown the sympathetic Butch Brewster this 


HICKS READS AN OLD LETTER 


message — to explain his mysterious determination 
to enter the Freshman-Sophomore track meet. He 
seemed to hear again his own voice, uttering to his 
big classmate a most rash statement— — 

' — Just leave it to me, Butch. Bear in mind 
this solemn vow I hereby make in your presence; 
before I graduate from Bannister and leave forever 
the classic halls of my alma mater, / zvill have won 
my B in three branches of sport/ '' 

How wrathful Butch had been at this bragga- 
docio. Naturally, Hicks had made this ridiculous 
prophecy, as usual, only to arouse his firm comrade 
to indignation; yet, the fact remained that Hicks 
had done nothing in all his Sophomore year, toward 
striving to realize his Dad's ambition — he had not 
even tried to win his B. Loving his father as he 
did, the clean-spirited youth was heart-broken, as 
he saw how he had pursued his own butterfly exist- 
ence, instead of — ^^attempting all the sports" — and 
endeavoring to ‘‘find his event." 

“It’s not too late!" breathed Hicks, a strange de- 
termination stirring within him, a mighty desire to 
please his father, to help his Dad’s dream come 
true. But — what can I do now — the track season is 
ended, and " 

Suddenly he remembered that notice down on 
the door of Smithson : “Let every Sophomore be on 
Bannister Field at 4:15 p. m. today — to try for the 

275 


f 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


class nine ! Everyone will be given a try-out — 
signed: Captain Butch Brewster, 1919/’ 

Baseball! Why had he never attempted that 
glorious game — ^he had gone in for football — most 
disastrously, in his Freshman year, but he knew 
he was too light for the Bannister eleven. At track 
he had tried every event, but in vain — yet, never 
had he invaded the diamond, to wrest the laurels 
from Ty Cobb, ‘‘Home-run’^ Baker, and other 
scintillating luminaries. 

''Basehalir breathed the inspired Hicks. ^‘Dad, 
I will try everything. Ell go out on the field noiv^ 
and try for the class nine. Who knows, perhaps I 
am a baseball star, but didn’t know it. The fellows 
will ridicule my appearance, I know, but I don’t 
care — they just don’t understand. Still, I had bet- 
ter take Dad’s letter along to show Butch for he 
might ” 

Thus Fate, according to Butch Brewster’s avowed 
belief ever afterward, set the stage for tragedy. In 
his determination to make an earnest endeavor at 
baseball, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., was intensely 
sincere — he loved his Dad, he understood Mr. 
Hicks’ keen ambition to have his son win his college 
letter, and he was sorrowful at the way he had quit, 
after a few futile stabs at athletic sports. So far 
as the sunny youth’s purpose is concerned, he was 
blameless for subsequent tragic events, but 

276 


HICKS READS AN OLD LETTER 

''Oh, well, I can’t do any harm/"^ reflected Hicks, 
grinning cheerfully, as he remembered the class 
football game he had won — for the other team. So 
here I go — the latest meteor to flash across the 
baseball sky of old Bannister.” 


19 


CHAPTER XXI 

HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 

B ig butch BREWSTER, captain of the 1919 
baseball squad, paused in his earnest endeavor 
to convince the skyscraper Ichabod that shutting 
his eyes and swinging wildly was not conducive to 
a batting average of startling proportions. From 
the grandstand, filled with a joyous crowd of sky- 
larking upper-classmen, riotous that all study for 
the year was ended, sounded a thunderous chorus : 

Yea, Hicks— Hicks— Hicks ! All hail— Ty 

Cobb the second 

^'Give the game to T9, Freshies — Hicks is going 
to play tomorrow.’^ 

‘^Hicks — the Great Comedian — will now give a 
performance.’’ 

“Don’t miss Hicks’ Illustrated Lecture: ‘How 
Not to Play Baseball.’ ” 

Captain Butch Brewster actually turned pale, as 
278 


HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 


he gazed at the serene T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., who, 
attired in that inevitable, gorgeous bathrobe of 
Herculean proportions, half-concealing, half-reveal- 
ing — a track suit beneath, strode toward him. The 
festive youth, because he had never tackled the 
diamond sport before, had found his wardrobe lack- 
ing suitable garb, so he had donned track togs, 
supplemented with rubber-soled sneaks — and had 
continued on his way, rejoicing. 

The appearance of the non-athletic Hicks, when 
he made his debut in any sport, on Bannister Field, 
always occasioned a small-sized riot, and this initial 
bow of his to baseball caused a pandemonium to 
break loose. Remembering his Freshman football 
career — with his reverse touchdown — and his 
paralyzingly funny adventures ” in the track meet 
with the Sophomores, the previous May, the hilari- 
ous collegians literally hugged themselves, in de- 
lighted anticipation of the humorous stunt he would 
now perform. 

As a penalty for his usual blithesome nature, his 
pestersome ways, and his absolute refusal toi take 
life seriously, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., when he did 
become thoroughly earnest, was utterly unable to 
convince Bannister of that fact. Now, deeply 
stirred by the letter from his Dad, which had moved 
him to athletic efforts the spring before, the sunny 
Sophomore was intensely determined to make 


279 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


sincere efforts on the diamond, but he realized that 
to hope for the collegians belief in such a phe- 
nomenon was futile. 

‘The track is over there, Hicks,” advised Icha- 
bod, leaning against the dazed Butch Brewster for 
support. “What is the main idea of that disguis- 
ing as Ted Meredith — going to have your picture 
took?” 

Butch Brewster, to whom the responsibility of 
choosing a nine that would defeat Roddy Perkins’ 
fast aggregation, and prevent 1920 from carrying 
off the honors of the year, was extremely burden- 
some, quietly led the grinning Hicks to one side of 
the home-plate, so their conversation would be un- 
heard. 

“Hicks, old man,” he began, so pleadingly that 
his toothpick comrade chuckled, “you ought to 
know by this time that whenever a notice is posted 
urging all to try for any team at Bannister, it al- 
ways means: 'Hicks excepted/ Pick out a com- 
fortable seat in the stand, Hicks, and don’t do 
anything to distract the squad from practice.” 

Hicks, drawing his father’s letter from his bath- 
robe pocket, handed it to the perturbed Butch, who, 
after glancing suspiciously at his apparently earnest 
classmate, drew out the message and read the appeal 
of Mr. Thomas Haviland Hicks, Jr. When his 
mosquito-like comrade had explained how he found 


280 


HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 

the epistle, which had diverted him from his fiendish 
purpose to bother the Sophomore squad, and of its 
effect on him, the behemoth Butch was moved to 
profound meditation. 

The good-natured, loyal Butch alone understood 
and sympathized with Hicks, and realized that, at 
infrequent intervals, the happy-go-lucky youth 
really felt the tragedy of not being able to ^^find his 
event,’’ and win his athletic letter. True, by his 
Big Brotherhood of Bannister idea, Hicks had saved 
his alma mater from untold trouble and shame, and 
had made it possible for the Gold and Green to fight 
till the last ditch for the State Football Champion- 
ship, though vainly. But that was not being in the 
struggle — fighting to the last gasp for old Ban- 
nister. 

know, old man,” he said, at last, ^^you want to 
try baseball, to see if you can have a chance for your 
B in it. I’ll give you a try-out, Hicks, after awhile. 
Just sit on the bench, and let the fellows forget 
about you — and toward the end of the game. I’ll 
send you in.” 

^Thanks, awfully. Butch,” responded Hicks, 
cheerfully, ^T’ll be as good as a small boy — ^jes be- 
fore Christmas.’ If you get into a tight place, and 
want your old game won, just leave it to Hicks. I 
firmly believe I shall create a sensation in baseball 
tomorrow, and that very soon Connie Mack, John 


281 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


J. McGraw and other managers will be chasing me 
wildly to sign their contracts.” 

However, because he zvas in earnest, Hicks’ be- 
havior was most exemplary. He retired to the 
bench occupied by the second Sophomore nine, and 
maintained a miraculous silence, as he watched the 
game between the two teams, both composed of his 
classmates. Because Billy Harnsworth, for the 
so-called regulars, and Don Carterson, for the 
scrubs, were promising pitchers, the contest was 
quite exciting, and in the eighth inning, the latter 
aggregation led Butch Brewster’s aggregation by 
one run. 

It was in Butch’s half of the eighth that Hooligan 
Hughes, a lack-luster, shambling youth, who seemed 
always thinking of something that happened in the 
fifteenth century, shuffled to the home-plate, and 
Don Carterson unloosed a wild pitch. Utterly un- 
able to arouse himself. Hooligan stared stupidly at 
the speeding spheroid until it came in violent con- 
tact with his head, thus causing the lackadaisical lad 
to lose all interest in earthly affairs, for the nonce. 

‘"Hicks,” shouted Captain Butch Brewster, ""take 
first base. Watch yourself now, go down with his 
arm, and slide T 

The intensely excited Hicks, who had strolled 
over back of first base, to ""study the game,” as he 
stated, hurled aside his bathrobe dramatically, ap- 


282 


HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 


pearing on the scene of action, like a stray splinter. 
Like the; average American youth, T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr., had a considerable knowledge of baseball 
‘'as she is played,’’ but in his excited state of mind, 
the sunny Sophomore became paralyzed, and clung 
to first base with a tender devotion that moved his 
team-mates to indignant protest. 

“I know what they mean,” panted the nervous 
youth, as he gazed intently at Don, in the box, hav- 
ing been loudly advised to “watch his arm,” as if 
the pitcher’s physical member might suddenly drop 
off. “I hardly suppose he will offer me his arm, so 
we may stroll to second together. I realize that I 
am confidently expected to reach that bag — some 
distance away — well, perhaps I can get a good start 
before Don sees me, and ” 

The hilarious collegians in the stand burst forth 
loudly into an improvised chorus, composed hastily 
by Shakespeare Sawtelle, the Bannister Weekly 
editor, who was an embryo and quick-action poet : 

“Hooray for T. Hicks, the Human Lath — 

He runs like a cow on the cinder path ! 

He will now attempt to steal second base — 

But if he slides, it will be on his face — 

Thus arousing poor Butch Brewster's wrath !" 

The climax of this ballad was lost in the deafen- 
ing uproar that arose, for T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., 
fatuously believing he could wander unnoticed by 


283 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

the pitcher, who held the ball, calmly strolled to- 
ward second base. That youthful Mathewson, Don 
Carterson, had his attention called to this would-be 
Ty Cob act by his shrieking team-mates, and with 
a smile, he watched the nonchalant progress of the 
daring pilferer. 

‘'Oh, you — bonehead !” stormed the stunned 
Butch Brewster. “You bush leaguer. Run — run — 
run — you’ve got to run now, and slide. Oh, you 
poor, brainless idiot — I thought you knew some- 
thing about baseball. Oh—^ — ” 

Hicks, dimly aware that something about his 
promenade was not according to established pro- 
cedure, vaguely caught his captain’s ravings, and 
like the famous “Light Brigade” — he paused not 
to reason why, but — midway between bases, charged 
madly for second! He attempted a slide about 
twenty feet from the base, and it came near being 
a “faintaway,” for he fulfilled Shakespeare Saw- 
telle’s prophecy, sliding on his face, one hip, and 
the other elbow, most gracefully. 

Pitcher Carterson, deciding it was time for action, 
tossed the ball to the second-baseman, who, since 
Hicks had stuck on the ground in his sensational 
slide, was obliged to stroll toward the frantically 
crawling youth in order to “tag him out.” Since 
the graceless Hicks’ most ludicrously futile effort 
to imitate the daring Ty Cobb and purloin second 


284 


HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 

base retired the side, the scathing remarks hurled 
at the sunny Sophomore, and the storm of ridicule 
he weathered when he strode from the infield, can 
better be imagined than described. 

‘AVhy didn’t you stop and make a speech?” de- 
manded Pudge Langdon. ‘‘You presented the other 
team with the game, for we had a chance to tie the 
score and win in the ninth. I suppose if we do hold 
them scoreless, and tie up the game next inning, 
you will pull a “boner,” and throw the game at 
them.” 

The disgraced Hicks, though to all appearances 
as blithesome and serene as ever, was really deeply 
chargrined over his hilariously ridiculous debut as a 
baseball star. The happy-go-lucky youth, because 
he so earnestly desired to please his beloved Dad, 
was intensely ambitious to make good at this sport 
and win his B, and — he had made such a colossal 
blunder! However, since Butch Brewster and his 
colleagues of 1919 must never know that his debo- 
nair serenity was disturbed, Hicks chirped blithely : 

“Just leave it to me. Pudge! We are only one 
run behind, I believe — well, in the ninth, I — T. 
Haviland Hicks, Jr., will win the game for Captain 
Butch’s nine!” 

''You — ” exploded Captain Butch Brewster, 
hurling a glove at him, “take right field — Hooligan 
is out, and we must play you. Not many flies come 


285 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


out there, and besides, you can’t do worse than that 
somnambulistic Hooligan Hughes did!” 

Surely, Dame Fortune hid her smiling face from 
her favorite, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., that afternoon! 
At least, so meditated that care-free youth, as he 
meandered meditatively out into right field, fervently 
hoping that no balls would be knocked in his general 
direction. From the grandstand, the humorous ad- 
vice and comments of the skylarking upper-classmen 
drifted out to him: 

‘‘Get a butterfly net, Hicks — ^you might catch 
something then 1” 

‘‘Stop the ball with a writ of habeas corpus!'^ 

“Watch out, Hicks — don’t let the ball hit you 
on the head 1” 

“Hicks — the Baseball Phenom ! Hicks 1 Hicks ! 
Hicks!” 

Thanks to the superb pitching of Billy Harns- 
worth, the first two batters felt very much “put out,” 
as they returned to the bench, after vainly striking 
at the. elusive curves. Then — big Beef McNaughton 
— the regular Bannister left-fielder, a heavy slugger 
who had been shifted to the second Sophomore nine 
to strengthen it in the practice game, strolled up to 
the plate. Instinctively, all the outfielders but Hicks 
moved back — that hero, having no definite idea of 
what to do — maintained a statuesque pose, until 
Butch Brewster, catching — relayed to him a com- 


286 


HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 


mand to '‘get back/’ whereupon he endeavored to 
climb the fence. 

Beef, after getting two balls and one strike, put 
all his vast bulk against a straight ball and crashed 
a long, low fly toward right field. It was a terrific 
drive, and over Hicks’ head — good for a home-run, 
unless by some miracle, the right-fielder checked its 
progress. The bewildered youth, on hearing the 
crack of the bat against the ball, caught a great 
uproar that floated to him : 

‘‘Run back — run back — run back! Over your 
head, Hicks — back — backT 

One has said that, “He who would command 
must first learn to obey.” In that event, Hicks was 
already amply qualified for leadership, for he blindly 
obeyed orders, when he did not know what to do. 
He turned his back on the infield, and fled precipi- 
tately toward the fence — he knew not why this must 
be done, but he had been told to “run back,” and 
he did so. Faster and faster he sprinted, deciding 
that when he heard the ball thud on the ground, 
then he might , check his mad flight. 

Suddenly a darkey doggerel he had once heard 
came to mind — “What goes up, must come down — 
every little nigger look out for his crown !” He felt 
an ominous chill at his heart — suppose that hard-hit 
ball smote him on the back of his head in its meteoric 
descent ! Alarmed at what seemed to be a certainty. 


287 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

the desperate Hicks resolved to face the danger, so 
he might have a chance to dodge it — accordingly 
he essayed the difficult feat of turning around while 
in full flight. 

As a result, he caught his right foot behind his 



“ The luckless Hicks sat down most fluently.’’ 


left heel, and a second later the luckless Hicks sat 
down most fluently and enthusiastically. As the 
ball was figuratively a mile over his head, his alarm 
had been needless — and, where a fast fielder might 
have retrieved the ball in time to hold Beef on third, 
the splinter-youth, prostrate on his back, like a help- 


288 


HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 


less beetle, allowed the pachydermic Sophomore to 
make a home-run. 

Rendered desperate by this brilliantly unusual 
method of fielding, Captain Brewster executed a 
hundred-yard dash after a high foul ball, and retired 
the third batter by a phenomenal catch. However, 
this failed to soothe his wrathful indignation, and 
when his nine went to bat in the last of the ninth, 
with the enemy two runs ahead, Hicks was the target 
for innumerable well-aimed shafts of scorn. 

“ ‘In the ninth — ’ ” quoth the lengthy Ichabod 
scathingly, “ ‘I, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. — will win 
the game — !’ Bah — in the ninth you threw it away ! 
Is that a new Ty Cobb method of catching flies — 
falling over on your back, or did you expect to catch 
it in your mouth?” 

By a sensational “last ditch” stand, Captain 
Butch’s aggregation performed prodigies in the 
ninth. Ichabod singled, stole second, and was sac- 
rificed to third by the second batter, making one out ; 
Pudge Langdon promptly tripled, scoring Ichabod, 
and then the shaken Don Carterson hit a batter in 
the back. A single by Captain Butch scored Pudge, 
tying up the game, amid the shrieks of the upper- 
classmen in the stand, after which little Skeet Wig- 
glesworth enthusiastically imitated “Casey” and 
struck out. 

With runners on third and second, for Captain 
289 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Butch had stolen that base after his single scored 
Pudge and put the batter hit by Don on third base, 
an error presented Cherub Challoner with free trans- 
portation to first. Thus — in the ending of the ninth 
inning, the score was a tie, with three men on bases 
and two out, and then : 

Along came Hicks ! 

‘Home-run’ Hicks !” was the shout. “Hit a 
home-run, old man! A home-run with the bases 
full ! ‘Home-run Baker the Second’ — Hicks-Hicks- 
Hicks!” 

So nervous that he seemed afflicted with the St. 
Vitus dance, the intensely alarmed Hicks, his knees 
knocking violently, quivered at the home-plate. 
While trying to decide whether the ball would smite 
him on the head, or shoot into his slender anatomy 
in the rib region, Don Carterson, who seemed to 
have caught the contagion from Hicks, endeavored 
to hurl the ball over the rear fence, and the umpire 
droned — “Ball one!” Delighted at his unqualified 
success, Don varied the monotony by striving to hit 
the batter’s left toe, which he narrowly missed. 

“Ball two !” pronounced the umpire, and the para- 
lyzed Hicks, who could not have wiggled his bat 
for a free trip to the Panama Exposition, backed 
farther from the danger zone. The worried pitcher 
knew that the toothpick youth was so scared that 
he would not offer at straight balls over the heart 


290 


HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 


of the plate, but — Don could not put them there. 

“Ball three!” shouted the interested umpire, as 
the harassed pitcher achieved his ambition by throw- 
ing the ball seven feet over his catcher’s head. 
Everyone — the two teams, the hilarious upper-class- 
men, and even the demoralized Hicks himself, real- 
ized the plain truth — that Hicks was too scared to 
strike at a ball, and that Don was too nerve-shaken 
to throw anything within a respectable distance of 
the plate. 

Summoning all his will-power, the embryo Walter 
Johnson went through a spectacular wind-up, heed- 
less of the three runners on bases, and shot the ball 
toward the base — at least, in that general direction, 
with terrific speed. However, it whizzed toward the 
panic-stricken Hicks’ head, and that terrified youth, 
almost too late, fell backward to the ground for the 
second time that day. Flat on his back, wondering 
if he had really escaped with his life, the sunny 
Sophomore heard the umpire shriek — “Four balls!” 

“Jog down to first!” Captain Butch Brewster 
boomed from second, as a merry-go-round started. 
“Run down to first, Hicks, old man, and — the game 
is won!” 

Amid the plaudits of the frenzied spectators, to 
whom the finish of the game was intensely thrilling, 
even though nothing depended on the contest, the 
splinter-like Hicks, clad in his track-suit, jogged 


291 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


triumphantly down to first base, blindly obeying 
orders. And as he did so, the winning run crossed 
the home-plate, for Don Carterson, in passing the 
lucky youth to first, had forced in the man on third, 
thereby giving the game to Butch Brewster!s nine. 

When the elated Captain Butch Brewster and his 
team-mates rushed from the field to their dugout 
in front of the stand, they found T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., now enshrouded in his lurid bathrobe, strolling 
up and down in triumph — the hero of the hour. 

‘‘Hicks — Hicks — Hicks the upper-classmen 
stormed. “He won the game. Butch ! Pretty head- 
work, Hicks, old top — you worked Don for a pass, 
and won the game in the ninth 

Captain Butch surveyed the strutting Hicks, 
whose appearance loudly announced that he firmly 
believed he had achieved a wonderful deed. The 
behemoth Sophomore knew full well why his slim 
colleague had not offered at any of Don Carterson’s 
erratic shoots — because he had been too scared and 
paralyzed to do so. Not “headwork’’ on Hicks’ part, 
but downright terror, had made the substitute stand 
petrified at the plate until the pitcher had succeeded 
in hurling four wild balls ! 

Yet — knowing Hicks would never fail to embrace 
such a golden opportunity to pretend that his bril- 
liant mind had won the game in the ninth, Butch 
Brewster smiled grimly as he strode toward the 

292 


HICKS, BASEBALL PHENOM 


beaming Sophomore'. Approaching the lath-like 
youth, who, still wrapped in his gorgeous bathrobe, 
was standing in Vv^hat he firmly deluded himself — 
but no one else — was Ty Cobb’s pose for the camera, 
the 1919 baseball leader tackled his solemn duty. 

“Hicks — you bush-league, boneheaded amateur!” 
he began sternly. “You were scared to death, hear 
that — scared to death ! You were lucky because Don 
was as wild as the Wild Man of Borneo, but if he 
had found control, we would have lost the game! 
You are some batter, you are, and ” 

Hicks, who was perfectly aware that his inevi- 
table luck had been with him, and that it had been 
through no baseball brains or ability on his part 
that the winning run was scored, rather, it had 
happened because he really had been too alarmed to 
strike at the balls, swaggered toward the indignant 
Butch Brewster. Picking up a bat, and swinging 
it with what he firmly believed was “Home-run”' 
Baker’s batting form, he announced importantly : 

“Just leave it to me. Butch,” he stated, with ex- 
cessive modesty, “I told you I would win this game 
— in the ninth! If the Freshmen are defeating us 
tomorrow; and the game must be won for 1919 — 
count on my prowess! If you need my masterly 
batting ability, to draw a pass, or score a hit and the 
winning run for old ’19 — call on T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr.!” 

20 293 


CHAPTER XXII 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 


‘^More work for the undertaker ! 

Another little job 'for the tombstone maker! 

In the local z^mt-tery — they are very — very — 
very — 

Busy on a brand-new grave for — OLD ’NINE- 


TEEN 1” 

HAVILAND HICKS, JR.— at 2 p. m. Sat- 



A • urday, the hour set for the great Sophomore- 
Freshman baseball controversy — arrayed in that 
gorgeous bathrobe which was inevitably in evidence 
whenever he made an athletic debut, mysteriously 
imitated the proverbial small boy without the price 
of admission, and peered through a knothole in the 
rear fence of Bannister Field. 

Hippopotamus Barrett, a fat, Falstaffian Fresh- 
man with a voice that was a cross between an ocean 
liner’s foghorn and the Biblical Bull of Bashan’s 


294 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 


roar, was bellowing through a monster megaphone, 
leading ninety lusty-lunged members of 1920 in a 
thunderous chorus. Massed back of first base, the 
enthusiastic Freshmen chanted an improvised par- 
ody and vociferously indicated their sinister intent 
toward 1919, in the affair of the Sophomore-Fresh- 
man baseball game. 

Across the field, along the third-base line, the 
riotous Sophomore rooters, when the cheers and 
jeers that greeted this vocal outburst had died away, 
watched the wildly waving arms of their director. 
Bus Norton, a youth of tub-like proportions, and 
roared a song prepared for the occasion by the poetic 
Bannister Weekly editor, Shakespeare Sawtelle: 

“Toll — toll the bell — for the Freshman team to- 
day ! 

We’ll shed a little tear or two, as they are laid 
away ! 

They tried to beat Old ’Nineteen’s nine — they 
couldn’t even play — 

So — toll the bell, the funeral knell — of 1920 
today r 

To the watching Hicks, it seemed that the rival 
rooters labored under the fixed delusion that the 
game would be won by noise. Horns blared, buz- 
zers and rattlers added their quota to the chaos — 
every known noise-rnaking device in existence was 
in evidence — and use! By a master-stroke, the 
Sophomores had possessed themselves of The Ban- 


295 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


nister Band's outfit — one thumped the bass-drum 
lustily, another ^‘oomped" on the slide-trombone, 
and a cornet-chorus shrieked freakishly. 

The progressive Freshmen, not to be outdone, 
had produced a gigantic buzz saw, which they be- 
labored ardently, with indefatigable zeal, and sec- 
tions of iron piping, with the results entirely satis- 
factory — to themselves. In addition to these and 
other mechanical aids, the loyal supporters of the 
class nines kept up a running fire of extremely per- 
sonal remarks concerning the general appearance, 
and lack of baseball ability of the opposing players, 
sang songs, and hurled derisive taunts and jeers at 
each other. 

Bannister Field was covered with future Big 
Leaguers — industriously practicing for the colossal 
conflict. Butch Brewster and Roddy Perkins, cap- 
tains of the rival nines, batted to their infields — 
sending sizzling grounders zipping to embryo Mar- 
anvilles and Barrys; ‘‘fungo" hitters knocked sky- 
scrapers to the outfielders, to be gathered in — or 
misjudged, by would-be Ty Cobbs. Back of the 
home-plate, before admiring classmates or jeering 
upper-classmen, youthful Mathewsons and Walter 
Johnsons warmed up with a spectacular display of 
wind-up and delivery. 

Sounded always the incessant thump of balls 
thudding into catchers' big mitts, the staccato crack 

296 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 


of bats against the spheres, and ever — the weird, 
unintelligible gibberish of the toiling players. In- 
tended for encouragement to their team-mates, to the 
grinning Hicks, the remarks from the diamond re- 
sembled those of a Lunatic Asylum’s inmates, 
including as they did such highly classical phrases 
as: 

“At-a-boy, Butch — some wing! Right on his 
head, old man!” 

“Shoot ’er to second. Biff — nobody steals on that 
fin today !” 

“Great stop, Skeet — had him by a mile at first ! 
Plenty o’ pep!” 

“Some smoke, Roddy, boy, they won’t even see 
your curves, old top!” 

The blithsome Hicks, peering through the knot- 
hole in the Bannister Field fence, back of the home- 
plate, chuckled as he beheld, in the grandstand, the 
bean-pole form of Doc MacGruder shooting upward. 
That philosophical Senior, who resembled a human 
interrogation-mark, rising with the movements of a 
freight train uncoupling, gave vent to a series of 
steam calliope shouts which secured for him the 
desired quiet. 

Then, assuming an intensely Demosthenes-like 
pose, the inimitable Doc, whose head, perched atop 
of a crane-like neck that thrust forward at an angle 
of forty degrees, made him greatly resemble a wood- 


297 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


pecker, held forth. The garrulous youth, of whom 
it was said that he would rather make a speech than 
to eat Sunday dinner at Bannister, roared through 
a megaphone to the hushed spectators : 

‘Tellow-Seniors, Jolly Juniors, Sophomores, 
Freshmen, and — Combatants! Today, at old Ban- 
nister, witnesses a celebrated event of tremendous, 
super-colossal magnitude — one far transcending in 
importance such insignificant issues as Woman Suf- 
frage, the European War, or the World’s Series! 

‘‘The outcome of this Titanic struggle on Ban- 
nister Field is breathlessly awaited throughout the 
universe, in every outpost of civilization, from Hon- 
olulu to Kamchatka, in every corner of this terres- 
trial spheroid whereon treads the English-speaking 
tongue! Across the majestic Atlantic Ocean, the 
battling hosts of a blood-stained continent rest on 
their arms — across the gruesome trenches, English- 
man whispers to German, Frenchman to Austrian — 
“What’s the score of the Bannister College Sopho- 
more-Freshman baseball argument?” 

“Oh, my friends and fellow-Bannisterites ! Yester- 
day, across the Bannister baseball sky, there flamed 
a blazing comet — a flaring meteor! A scintillating 
star suddenly burned in the Gold and Green con- 
stellation, far surpassing in brilliancy and dazzling 
radiance any in that gorgeous galaxy! We have 
come hither today to witness the superhumaa 

298 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 


prowess of this phenomenon — and he is not here! 
Hence, in stentorian tones, I demand: 

‘WHERE IS HICKS? Captain Brewster— 
WILL HICKS PLAY TODAY?’’ 

Captain Butch Brewster, striding toward the 1919 
bench, figuratively bowed down with the terrific re- 
sponsibility of leading his class nine to victory, 
stopped before the stand, and waited until the storm 
of cheers that greeted the angular Doc MacGruder’s 
speech had subsided. 

‘T don’t know where Hicks is!” he exploded 
wrathfully. ‘T left him in his room an hour ago 
getting into baseball togs. I told him to be on hand 
for practice, but when I sent Hooligan Hughes in 
to get him on the field, Hicks was not to be found. 
As to whether I intend to play him in the game 
today or not. Doc MacGruder, you string of spa- 
ghetti, that is my business!'' 

“Have you any other business?” shouted the ex- 
uberant Doc through his megaphone. “That one 
seems rather dull. Butch ! In behalf of this tremen- 
dous multitude here assembled to see your prodigy 
perform, I demand that you produce Hicks! We 
Seniors and Juniors care not for your old game — 
we have foregathered to behold the prowess of the 
great baseball phenom — T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. !’' 

The skylarking upper-classmen, to whom it mat- 
^tered not which team trailed in the dust of defeat, 


299 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


vociferously supported that youthful Demosthenes, 
Doc MacGruder. Joyous at the end of the year’s 
^^grind” — the Seniors relaxing their dignity for the 
last time before Commencement, the Juniors riotous 
for the final occasion before entering the solemn 
Seniorhood, they were out for a glorious good time. 
So, in a thunderous chorus, accompanied by a ryth- 
mic stamping of feet, they chanted loudly : 

‘‘Hicks — Hicks — we want Hicks! Hicks — Hicks 
— WE— WANT— 

The Sophomore rooters, back of third base, firmly 
believed that the outcome of the game depended 
on that blithesome youth. To them the sunny Hicks, 
who had originated the Big Brotherhood of Ban- 
nister, and who had sensationally outwitted Roddy 
Perkins, and escaped in time for the 1919 banquet, 
was an idol. Despite the shadow-like Sophomore’s 
famous fiascos in past athletic endeavors, and his 
blunders of the day before, his classmates, most of 
whom knew as little of baseball as of Sanscrit, were 
quite positive that Hicks’ winning the game by get- 
ting a base on balls stamped him as a phenom. 

“Butch — put Hicks in right field !” they shouted, 
laboring under the fixed delusion that unless the 
graceless youth played, the Freshmen would un- 
doubtedly carry off victory and the year’s inter-class 
honors. The uproar of the first-year rooters ceased 
for a time, as, wonderingly, they listened to the 


300 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 


tremendous appeal for ‘‘Hicks.’’ Everyone, it 
seemed, except the bewildered Freshmen and the 
1919 players, shouted for Hicks, and big Butch 
Brewster, who had no idea of where his debonair 
comrade'Xvas, or of playing him, unless forced to do 
so, waxed indignant. 

“I’ll play him if I decide it is best!” he raged 
before his sympathetic colleagues in the 1919 dug- 
out. “I don’t know where the pestersome insect is, 
anyway. If he wants to get in the game — and it’s 
highly improbable that he’ll get a chance to lose it — 
why doesn’t he show himself.” 

At that instant, in the gateway of Bannister Field, 
there appeared — T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. With a 
super-colossal sense of the dramatic, the sensation- 
loving Sophomore appeared at the psychological 
moment ; attired in his lurid bathrobe, a bat carried 
over his shoulder, the happy-go-lucky youth strode 
importantly toward the 1919 bench, fully deluded 
that he intensely resembled the famous Tyrus Ray- 
mond Cobb. 

The upper-classmen in the stand literally went 
wild, and the Sophomore rooters far exceeded their 
display of emotional insanity. Great sound waves 
swept across the field, the bass drum boomed, the 
cowbells, buzzers, and rattlers added to the con- 
fusion — big megaphones were in evidence, and a 
continuous roar attended Hicks’ progress bench- 


301 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

ward. It was a far more impressive spectacle than 
even Mr. Julius Caesar’s frequent returns to old 
Rome, and the grinning Hicks’ march was a trium- 
phal procession, for the 1919 collegians swarmed 
out to escort him, and shouts from the grandstand 
echoed : 

“Hail — the great Hicks! Hicks — the Baseball 
Phenom I” 

“Ty Cobb the Second! No hope for the Fresh- 
men now, Roddy!” 

“The great Mystery — What will Hicks do to- 
day ?” 

“Hicks — remember the football game and the 
track meet last year!” 

“Hicks — the Super- Athlete ! Hicks — ^he does the 
Unexpected !” 

Big Butch Brewster, as well as the Bannister 
students, for a long time labored under the delusion 
that T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., who was known to 
love dearly to make a dramatic appearance, and who 
would rather occupy the spotlight of publicity than 
to eat, had purposely delayed his entrance to Ban- 
nister Field, for the sake of a sensation. However, 
in justice to the debonair youth, it must be chron- 
icled that such was not true — the correct version 
of Hicks’ hiding behind the rear fence, and peering 
through the knothole, a la penniless small boy, was 
this: 


302 


‘‘‘T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. — present!’ he 
^ chirped, blithely.’’ 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., possessed of a brilliant 
intellect, fully realized that his lately earned reputa- 
tion as a baseball phenom, like Mark Antony’s 
credit with the assassins of Caesar, ‘‘rested on 
slippery ground.” He understood that a large num- 
ber of his classmates, to whom a baseball would 
have been an object for microscopic study, verily 
believed that he was a star, because his securing 
a base on balls had won the game the day before, 
when Captain Butch Brewster’s nine was in the 
rear. He also saw clearly that most of the festive 
upper-classmen, in order to strive and influence 
Butch to put Hicks in the big game, were pretend- 
ing to believe him a baseball prodigy. 

Therefore, fully aware that to appear on Ban- 
nister Field in time to practice for the Sophomore- 
Freshman game, striving futilely to gather in the 
skyscraping balls Beef McNaughton would knock to 
the outfielders, would inevitably mean a disgraceful 
exhibition on his part, the sagacious youth had side- 
stepped that ordeal. Rather than have his freshly 
gained laurels — though only the uninitiated heaped 
them upon him — wither under the hot scorn of the 
1919 players, the sunny Hicks had stolen unobserved 
to that vantage-point behind the rear fence, to wait 
for the contest. 

Reaching the 1919 bench, the grinning Hicks, 
greeted with uproarious derision by the extremely 


304 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 


nervous Sophomore squad, paused before the right- 
eously indignant Captain Butch Brewster, his 
gorgeous bathrobe flapping grotesquely at his heels, 
and festively saluted. 

‘‘T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. — present!’^ he chirped 
blithely. too late for practice, am I not. Butch? 
Oh, well — I don’t really need it, for I am in great 
shape. Is the game ready to start, now that I am 
here? I am prepared to perform wonders in right 
field, and to clear the congested bases with a home- 
run, at the psychological moment!” 

'^You — ” breathed Captain Butch, scornfully. 
‘‘Hicks, you are entirely too theatrical ! You stagey, 
swaggering, futile Human Zero, instead of reporting 
for practice, to see if I would give you a chance, 
you purposely delayed your appearance, in order 
that you might dramatically occupy the spotlight! 
What you don’t know about baseball, Hicks, would 
fill enough volumes to endow a Carnegie library!” 

“Them’s bitter words. Butch,” chuckled the 
serene Hicks, undisturbed by his comrade’s unjust 
accusation. ^^Say, old man — honest, now — don’t 
you see just the slightest resemblance between me 
and Ty Cobb? When I hold my bat thus ” 

At that instant, following a time-honored custom, 
the umpire— a dignified Senior, Socrates — Soc for 
sh5rt — Osterhaus, faced the grandstand and through 
a big megaphone bawled out the line-up of the two 


305 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


nines. The upper-classmen, imitated by the rooters 
of both teams, maintained a breathless silence until 
the last name was read out — that of the final player 
for the class of 1919: 

“Right field for T9 — ” announced Soc loudly, 
“Sukey Sykes!” 

For a moment — absolute silence. Then the first 
note of protest sounded, a mighty shout of indigna- 
tion from the Sophomore rooters, who were firmly 
deluded that Hicks’ prowess would win for 1919. 
After this, the skylarking upper-classmen in the 
stand, wrathy at being cheated of the good time 
they had anticipated, in jeering the sunny Hicks’ 
weird efforts, rose in a body, and their vociferous 
howls drifted out to Captain Butch Brewster: 

“Hicks ! Hicks ! Hicks I Play Hicks in right field!” 

“Butch — give us Hicks, or we’ll root for the 
Freshmen !” 

“Mr. Umpire — make ’19 put Hicks in the game!” 

“’Rah for Hicks, the Phenom!— WE WANT 
HICKS!” 

For five minutes, without cessation, the thunder- 
ous uproar sounded — gradually the three upper- 
classes united their lusty appeal in a steady, rhythmic 
bellow of — “Hicks! Hicks ! — We want Hicks!” The 
Sophomores thumped the bass drum, blared away at 
the trombone and cornets, and made strenuous use 
of the rattlers, buzzers and other noise-creating de- 

306 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 

vices — a most deafening, ear-splitting din shattered 
the atmosphere, but — Captain Butch Brewster, talk- 
ing with Umpire Soc Osterhaus, remained obdurate. 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. — it must be chronicled — 
was not in the least obsessed with the insane, base- 
less delusion that the collegians — minus the Fresh- 
men — wanted him in the game because they wanted 
to see him play, because they yearned to behold his 
phenomenal powers! In fact, the brilliant youth 
understood that, while a few students who knew 
utterly nothing of baseball fondly believed him a 
star, because of that base on balls, all of the upper- 
classmen desired to see him in the line-up because 
they hoped he would commit more grievous errors, 
such as his stolen base, and missed fly-ball, which 
would give them a chance to jeer, good-naturedly. 

Therefore, though the wrathful Butch Brewster 
knew it not, the blithesome Hicks was no more 
anxious to get in the game than a German to get 
shaved by a French barber. Yet, since the joyous 
upper-classmen pretended to believe him a ‘'phe- 
nom,’’ the graceless Hicks took a keen pleasure in 
tormenting his classmates by swaggering around, d 
la Big Leaguer. 

The unadorned cause of the Juniors and Seniors 
creating such a voluminous protest at the playing of 
Sukey Sykes in the game, to the utter exclusion of 
the sunny Hicks, was: 


307 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


The appearance of T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. on 
Bannister Field, to make his official debut in any 
athletic sport, was always the cause of a small-sized 
riot. Remembering his ridiculous fiasco of the Soph- 
omore-Freshman football game the previous year, 
when he excitedy ran to the wrong goal-line for a 
touchdown, winning for 1918, and his hilarious 
failure in every event in the class track meet the 
previous spring, the upper-classmen intensely de- 
sired to see him tackle football. 

It was almost an inevitable certainty that the 
brilliant Hicks would do the wholly unexpected. 
Beside the unlimited joy of jeering the good-na- 
tured youth, whose utterly earnest ambition to make 
good at baseball for his Dad was known only to 
Butch Brewster, there was always the probability 
that the Sophomore leader would paralyze the spec- 
tators by some undreamed of feat. 

^‘You see — T' demanded the cheery Hicks, swag- 
gering up to the worried Captain Butch Brewster. 
‘‘You hear — the protest of the throng? They want 
to see me, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., cavort in right 
field. You can not defy that tidal wave of popular 
appeal. Butch — you must let me win for T9!’’ 

“Oh, can’t I?” scoffed the indignant Butch. “See 
here, Hicks — you are an utter impossibility, and 
I would not dare to put you in the game for a for- 
tune unless I had to 1 That base on balls which won 


308 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 


us the game, was no exhibition of baseball prowess 
on your part — you were actually too scared to strike 
out, and as Don was wild, you were passed, forcing 
in the winning run. Now, sit on the bench and 
root, old man, and — if I have to use you, I will do 
it, but not unless there is no one else to send in the 
game. 

^‘Now listen, old man.’’ Butch was ludicrously 
serious, for he hated to hurt his sunny comrade. 
‘‘I want a hard-hitting line-up, and Sukey Sykes 
can hit the ball, while he fields fairly well. Your 
fielding is known to be rotten, and your base-run- 
ning atrocious, while I am sure you could not hit 
the ball with a handful of shot. For old ’19, Hicks 
— sit on the bench, but if your class needs you, be 
ready to go in and play hardT 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. hesitated. To himself, 
he was exultingly reflecting thus — if Butch yielded 
to popular demand and played him, all too soon 
would his brief glory of yesterday fade, like that 
of ancient Greece and Rome. Of course, he was 
a hero only to a few collegians who knew as little 
of baseball as of Hindustani, but if he stayed out 
of the game, and made no more ridiculous errors, 
he could claim some fame for having won a ball 
game by securing a pass to first base. 

‘‘Don’t be angry, old man,” pled Butch Brewster, 
utterly misunderstanding Hicks’ silence. “I know 


21 


309 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

you want to play, you want to try and make good 
for your Dad's sake. But — these upper-classmen 
don't care about how you play, Hicks — they want 
to see you ‘butchered to make a Bannister holiday !’ 
And our class idolizes you, so they believe you are 
a wonder, because you won the game yesterday — 
by a fluke. For old '19, Hicks, I am doing what I 
believe best, so don't hold it against me. I'll play 
you if I have to " 

In the stand and back of third base the tumult 
broke out again, “Hicks! Play Hicks! Butch — we 
want HicksT sounded. In a steady roar, the name 
of the sunny-natured youth was shouted ; the Soph- 
omores — outside of the baseball “fans" — intensely 
wanted him to win the game — the joyous upper- 
classmen, as Butch said, wanted to “butcher him to 
make a Bannister holiday.” The Freshmen, who 
had not seen the practice game, half afraid that 
Hicks really zvas a prodigy, were silent, except for 
a few faint jeers, uttered as a matter of duty, but 
the other collegians kept thundering at the ada- 
mantine-minded Butch Brewster to — play Hicks. 

The irrepressible Hicks, who felt that a ten-ton 
weight had been lifted from his mind by a derrick, 
when he learned that he was not to play, turned 
away for a second, that the troubled Butch might 
not see the grin of happiness on his cherubic coun- 
tenance. Then, because he believed that the big 


310 


HICKS MAKES A HIT 


bluff must be kept up — the pretence that he wanted 
to be in the Big Game, the debonair Sophomore 
faced his behemoth friend with assumed serious- 
ness. 

‘'It’s — it’s all right, Butch,” he said earnestly, his 
sunny smile in evidence, really because he was vastly 
amused that his colleague believed he was ambitious 
to play, when he dreaded facing Roddy’s speed. 
“I’d like most mightily to win the game for old 
’19, to play against Roddy’s crew, and I believe I 
could do great things, but — Oh, well — for my class, . 
old man, you understand ” 

“Thanks, Hicks — ” gulped the big-hearted Butch, 
deluded into the belief that his blithesome friend was 
making a colossal sacrifice for his class. “That’s 
true class spirit! I’m sure you’ll get in the game, 
before it is over, so go sit on the bench, and — root! 

I — I appreciate this sacrifice, old man, and if a 
chance comes — I’ll send you in!” 

“P/ay balir boomed Umpire Soc Osterhaus, and 
Hicks, pretending to be extremely downcast, trailed 
sorrowfully toward the 1919 dugout, where he 
majestically wrapped his lurid-hued bathrobe about 
his splinter-structure and sat down. The Sopho- 
more team took the field, the first Freshman hitter 
stepped up to the plate, and Don Carterson, the 
1919 twirler, prepared to deliver the first ball of 
the great Sophomore-Freshman game. And — still 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


the enraged populace jeered at Captain Butch 
Brewster and thundered: 

“HICKS — HICKS — WE WANT HICKS! 
HICKS— HICKS— WE WANT HICKS 1 ” 

T.Haviland Hicks, Jr., sitting in solitary grandeur 
in the 1919 dugout, grinned rapturously at the 
tremendous tumult. Though he did not believe 
fatuously that he was so enthusiastically wanted be- 
cause of his prowess, nevertheless, it was extremely 
sweet to him to hear his name shouted by the multi- 
tude, and the happy-go-lucky youth began to wish 
that he might get into the game, because — he might 
accidentally, aided by his usual luck, do some spec- 
tacular and sensational stunt and win glory. 

“Anyhow — ” he murmured softly, “even if Butch 
won’t let me make one in the game. I’ve surely 
made a hit with the crowd !” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


HICKS CLEANS UP 

P erhaps the most graphic method of chron- 
icling that colossal conflict, the Sophomore- 
Freshman baseball game, would be to quote from 
the write-up of Scoop Sawyer, Baseball Editor of 
the Bannister Weekly, whose picturesque account 
appeared in the Commencement issue of that per- 
iodical. 

Before detailing the contest by innings, the em- 
bryo journalist made a few general remarks, as 
follows : 

SENSATIONAL FINISH ON BANNISTER FIELD! 
WILD AND WEIRD BASEBALL! 

Sophomores And Freshmen Strive To Present Each 
Other With Game ! 

On Saturday afternoon, that annual combination of 
Farce-Comedy, Burlesque, and Continuous Vaudeville, 
more generally known to Bannister as the Sophomore- 


313 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


Freshman baseball game, was perpetrated on Bannister 
Field by Captains Butch Brewster and Roddy Perkins, 
aided and abetted by twenty or more accomplices. This 
“Slaughter of the Innocents,’’ and ‘‘Crime in the Name 
of Baseball,” was witnessed by a vast and enthusiastic 
crowd o*f four hundred, including Freshmen, Sophomores, 
Juniors, Seniors, members of the Faculty, townspeople, 
Marcellus Jones, the Smithson sweep, and a yellow dog, 
unknown ! 

Promptly at 1.30 p.m.. Captain Brewster’s so-called nine 
took the field, and for fifteen minutes vainly endeavored 
to delude the long-suffering public into believing that 
they were practicing! Then Captan Perkins’ aggregation 
followed this heinous example, and illustrated the old 
adages — “Pot and the Kettle,” and — “Six of one, and half 
a dozen of the other 1” 

Several of the Senior-Scientifics, equipped with power- 
ful telescopes, made heroic efforts to discover some real 
ball-players, but the total number seen could be counted 
on the thumbs of the le'ft hand ! Except for a few first 
team players on each nine, the majority of the offenders 
had never been introduced to a ball, and most of them 
would have found one an interesting microscopic study! 
The infielders could not have stopped a ball with a writ 
of habeas corpus, while an Act of Legislature would have 
been necessary to start an outfielder after a fly ! 

When Umpire Soc Osterhaus, whom we dismiss with 
the brief statement that, as an umpire, he is a splendid 
checker-player, shouted — “Play Ball !” in what he firmly 
believed were Big League “umpiratic” tones, the Sopho- 
mores took the field, for what purpose, is unknown ! 
Don Carterson, who will never divorce Walter Johnson 
from his job, entered the box for 1919, with Captain 
Brewster playing the role of “The Man In The Iron 
Mask.” Amid vociferous rooting from extremely par- 


314 


HICKS CLEANS UP 

tisan members of the two lower classes, the annual base- 
ball classic (?) was on ! 

Of Don Carterson’s pitching, we have to remark that 
his control was absolutely phenomenal! Having gath- 
ered affidavits from students of unimpeachable veracity, 
we can state without fear of contradiction that in the 
two innings he officiated, the Sophomore hurler did not 
hit anyone in the grandstand, of throw a single ball over 
the left field fence ! However, we are compelled to add 
— in the cause o'f Truth, that — had an oversized elephant 
stood on the home-plate while Carterson was in the box, 
he would not have been in the least peril of being hit by 
the ball. 

Evidently laboring under the delusion that he was a 
French soldier shooting at a German aeroplane. Carter- 
son persisted in aiming at a point fully six feet over his 
catcher’s head. Varying this performance, he became 
insanely positive that the home-plate was a target, and 
he registered several bull’s eyes. As a result of his ob- 
session, so many Freshmen promenaded that it soon 
resembled a Bowery Bread Line at midnight! After 
two innings of Carterson’s officiating as Transportation 
Agent, Captain Brewster requested that he forget the 
location of the box as well as he had that of the plate, 
and inserted Ichabod into the melee as embryo Mathew- 
son ! 

With the Freshmen proud possessors of ten (lo) runs, 
as a result of countless passes and five hits off Carterson’s 
delivery, the elongated youth from ‘‘Bedwell Center, Pa., 
where I come from — ,” who deluded himself that he was 
a first baseman, proceeded to take the situation in hand. 
Ichabod, who has boasted that he can pitch horse-shoes, 
but never mentioned baseball, showed up as first team 
timber, and as a result of Captain Brewster’s “change for 
the better,” not a Freshman crossed the home-plate after 


315 


T. HAVILAND rilCKS, SOPHOMORE 

the second inning. However, with ten (lo) runs in the 
treasury, this seemed unnecessary. 

In the interim, while Captain Roddy Perkins’ pitching 
would have won the game — with the Boston Red Sox 
and Ty Cobb back of him, the Freshman team seemed 
determined to give the 1919 crowd the game as a Christ- 
mas present, or as a token of affection ! In order to 
make it appear that there was no foul plot to this effect, 
while Ichabod held them scoreless after the second 
inning, ’20 quietly handed the Sophomores a run at fre- 
quent intervals. 

The entire Freshman team composed a cast, presenting 
a modern version of — ‘‘A Comedy of Errors !” The out- 
fielders seemed to have sworn not to catch anything more 
than public attention, while the infielders apparently were 
deluded that they took part in a football game, for they 
punted and dropkicked the ball with marvelous ability, to 
the great enthusiasm of all football lovers present. 



They punted and dropkicked the ball with marvelous 
ability.” 


HICKS CLEANS UP 


However, Captain Roddy either “tightened up’’ or “cut 
loose” after the score stood — Freshmen — lo; Sophomores 
— 4, in the fifth, and from then until the final frame, the 
virgin soil of the home-plate remained untrampled by 
alien foot. To keep the contest from being monotonous, 
Umpire Soc Osterhaus seized the opportunity to demon- 
strate, to the satisfaction of all (except the players) — that 
ff he had to earn a living at umpiring, he would starve 
to death ! 

In the last half of the eighth inning 

Scoop Sawyer and the Bannister Weekly may be 
left astern now, for it was in the last of the eighth 
that the game really began, in the estimation of the 
joyous upper-classmen. At this juncture, history 
began to be manufactured, and the weary spirits of 
the spectators became enlivened, for — T. Haviland 
Hicks, Jr. — of whose presence in the Titanic 
struggle all hope had been lost, entered the 1919 
batting order. As the score was ten to four, for 
the Freshmen, and the game nearly ended, the hilar- 
ious ecstacy of the crowd at Hicks’ debut may better 
be imagined than described. 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., toward the end of the 
eighth inning, divorced himself from the 1919 dug- 
out, and navigated nonchalantly toward the grand- 
stand. Having howled encouragement to Captain 
Butch Brewster’s nine until his shouts resembled 
the vocal efforts of a bullfrog with bronchial trouble, 
the blithesome youth felt justified in seeking the 
society of the skylarking upper-classmen. 


317 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


As the sunny Sophomore drifted toward the 
stand, his lurid bathrobe flapping grotesquely at his 
heels, he stopped suddenly, for a tremendous out- 
burst from the spectators deafened him; he heard 
wild shouts of 

‘‘Mob the umpire ! Hit him with pop-bottles ! Oh, 
what a decision!’’ 

“Robber — thief — crook! You’d break into a 
baby’s bank, Soc!” 

“Ooo! Go see an oculist, Soc — ^you called him 
out — Good night r 

“You want to be a lawyer before the bar — you’ll 
land behind the bars!” 

“Just like the Big Leagues !” grinned Hicks, who 
was aware that the upper-classmen were just having 
sport. “I guess ’20 has this game in their refriger- 
ator, but I must be loyal to ’19, and hang around 
until the last Sophomore is out ! All the other subs 
have sprinted for the showers, but because I am full 
of class spirit, I have lingered to behold ’19’s down- 
fall! Hello ” 

Back of first base, the deliriously happy Freshmen 
were creating an uproarious din ! Singing, dancing 
— making all manner of noise, they were already 
celebrating the victory, which meant three out of 
four contests for them, and — supremacy over 1919! 
On the score-board, in big, white letters, Hicks 
gloomily read: SCORE— ENDING OF SEV- 


318 


HICKS CLEANS UP 


ENTH; FRESHMEN— lo; SOPHOMORES— 
4.” In the stand, the skylarking upper-classmen 
were still loudly berating Umpire Soc Osterhaus, 
who had just called a Sophomore runner out at 
third, after a sensational slide. 

“Hello — ” repeated Hicks, as the tumult suddenly 
ceased, leaving a stillness that presented a strange 
contrast, “somebody got hurt. Sukey Sykes — 
knocked out — sliding head-first into third base! I 
wonder ” 

He hesitated — several collegians were bearing the 
injured gladiator from the field, stunned, but not 
seriously hurt ; Umpire Osterhaus, a big megaphone 
in hand, after a consultation with Captain Brewster 
an(l the 1919 nine, was striding importantly toward 
the stand to make an announcement — a moment 
later Hicks beheld Butch, Beef, Pudge, and Icha- 
bod, dashing excitedly toward him 

“Safety First!” quoth the bewildered youth, who, 
though his conscience was clear of offence toward 
campus peace, deemed it better to cover ground 
rather than to stand it. Therefore, he sprinted 
toward the 1919 dugout, only to be captured in 
front of it by the speedier quartette, who dragged 
him toward the home-plate. 

“I haven’t done a thing. Butch,” protested Hicks 
vociferously. “Honest, I sat on the bench all the 
game, and howled my lungs out. I just ventured 


319 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


out a minute ago, because the Freshmen seemed due 
to win, and ’’ 

‘‘Hicks,” said Captain Butch Brewster, earnestly, 
“just listen ” 

Before the grandstand, aiming his big megaphone 
at the spectators. Umpire Soc Osterhaus was bawl- 
ing an announcement ; his sentences, in a sub-cellar 
voice, drifted out to the startled Hicks : 

“T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. now playing right field 
in place of Sukey Sykes! Change of batting order 
— Ichabod batting in SykesV place — Hicks in Icha- 
bod’s — Hicks now at bat for ’19 1 Two out — last 
half of the eighth!” 

T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., felt his knees knocking 
together violently, and a sensation similiar to that 
obtained by a swift elevator descent assailed him. 
He was in the game! And worst of all, he had been 
pitchforked into it at a most critical moment — with 
two out, a runner on second base, and — himself at 
bat! He scarcely heard Butch’s wrathful explana- 
tion that — believing the game irrevocably lost, all 
the 1919 substitutes, with those of 1920, had rushed 
in to the Gymnasium showers, so as to be sure of 
a bath before supper; this, and this alone, made it 
absolutely necessary to play T. Haviland Hicks, 

Jr. 

Almost in a trance, the paralyzed Sophomore 
wabbled toward the home-plate, while from the stand 


320 


HICKS CLEANS UP 


the enthusiastic, joyous shouts of the delighted 
upperclassmen sounded : 

‘‘’Rah! ’Rah! ’Rah! Hicks will save the day! 
Hicks! Hicks! Hicks!” 

“Say, fellows — it’s ‘Casey at the Bat!’ No — 
‘Hicksy at the Bat !’ ” 

“He couldn’t hit a barn with a scatter-gun — 
‘Home-Run’ Hicks!” 

“No base on balls today, Hicks! Let him bat 
with a board, Roddy!” 

“Don’t mind them, old man — ” pled Butch, wor- 
ried as he beheld on Hicks’ cherubic countenance 
unmistakable evidences of returning serenity. “Re- 
member, Hicks — your Dad’s letter, his appeal! It’s 
for ’19, Hicks, but — it’s your chance to make good 
for — your Dad !” 

Hicks might have been impressed by this plea, 
only — he knew beyond the skeleton of a doubt that 
never would his baseball prowess rival that of a 
paralyzed octogenarian ! Positive that he could 
never hit the ball, and almost sure his luck could 
not gain him another base on balls, the sunny youth 
determined to extract from the situation all the 
humor possible, and to aggravate the intensely earn- 
est Butch Brewster. 

Seizing a bat, and swaggering toward the stand, 
with what he firmly believed was “Home-run” 
Baker’s camera pose, the fun-loving Hicks, when 


321 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


the tumult was stilled sufficiently to make himself 
heard, loudly proclaimed : 

‘Tellow-Bannisterites ! The great moving pic- 
ture drama, ‘HICKS, THE HOME-RUN HERO’ 
will now be staged ! I am sorry there are not three 
men on bases, for only at such times can I knock 
a home-run! However, I shall proceed to win the 

game for old ’19! My class calls on me, and ” 

At* this juncture, members of 1919 called for 
Hicks, and he was dragged to the home-plate by an 
excessively wrathy Butch Brewster, assisted by the 
equally enraged Pudge and Beef! His knees wob- 
bling, and the bat shaking nervously in his hands, 
the thoroughly alarmed youth faced the grinning 
Roddy Perkins! That Titian-haired Freshman, 
really a good-natured collegian, seemed transformed 
into a fiendish demon^ — the baseball in his hand was 
a highly explosive bomb, and — ” 

“Get your batter up. Butch!” shouted Roddy, 
to the keen delight of the crowd, as Umpire Soc 
Osterhaus, impatient at the delay, threatened to “pull 
his watch” on the Freshman pitcher. “How can I 
pitch. Umpire, without a hitter at the plate ?” 

''Hicks is there !” raged Captain Brewster. “Play 
ball, and omit that comedy! Umpire — make him 
pitch!” 

“Oh, I see now !” responded James Roderick Per- 
kins, after pretending to peer intently toward the 


322 


HICKS CLEANS UP 


plate, a bit of burlesque that caused the upper-class- 
men to become convulsed. “I see him, Butch! All 
right, Hicks — we’re off!” 

As the hilarious Roddy, ecstatic that his class had 
practically won the game and the year’s honors, pro- 
ceeded with an elaborate wind-up, Doc MacGruder, 
who had been wonderfully quiet for a time, arose, 
and through his monster megaphone, boomed a 
paraphrase on ‘‘Casey at the Bat,” he shouted one 
verse : 


— There was pride in Hicksy’s manner, 

As he stepped into his place — 

There was ease in Hicksy’s bearing. 

And — a smile on Hicksy's face !” 

“Str-r-rike one!” droned Umpire Osterhaus, as 
Roddy shot a fast one fairly across the plate, with 
such speed that Hicks scarcely knew the ball had 
been pitched. After this, Hicks, as he had seen pro- 
fessionals do, wiped both hands in the dirt, and 
rubbed them on his uniform, which caused Doc Mac- 
Gruder elatedly to boom : 

“Eight hundred eyes were on him — 

As he rubbed his hands in dirt ! 

Four hundred tongues applauded — 

When he wiped them on his shirt 

“Str-r-rike two!” remarked Umpire Soc Oster- 
haus, as the frightened Hicks terrified at Roddy’s 


323 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


speed, made a feeble Chautauqua salute with his bat 
as the ball whizzed past him. 

What the hilarious Doc, who was causing a riot 
of mirth, then recited was not strictly true, as re- 
garded Hicks, for that youth was too alarmed to 
doff his cap, as the Senior howled : 

“The mighty Hicksy made a bow, 

And as he doffed his hat — 

Not a single soul could doubt — 

Hwas Hicksy — at the bat!’' 

‘‘Str-r-rike three!'’ shouted Umpire Soc Oster- 
haus, as Hicks dodged several feet back, from an 
outcurve that broke, and swept majestically over 
the exact center of the plate. Then — a tribute to 
Doc MacGruder’s entertaining powers, the storm of 
jeers, laughter, and ridicule for Hicks’ ‘‘Home Run” 
Baker act was actually restrained until the tall 
Senior shouted: 

“Somewhere the sun is shining ! 

Somewhere the children shout ! 

But there is no joy for poor ’19 — 

For — Hicksy has struck out !” 

While the exuberant upper-classmen, who now 
felt they were “getting their money’s worth,” roared 
their delight, big Butch Brewster, corralling the un- 
perturbed Hicks, handed him a glove, and in chaste 
English, expressed his unqualified opinion of that 
grinning youth. 


324 


HICKS CLEANS UP 


^^Hicks/’ he said, with grim emphasis, brains 
were ammunition, you wouldn'd have enough to 
shoot a cap-pistol off. Now — take this glove and 
stand in right field, and — do your worst!'' 

The Freshman half of the final inning passed 
without untoward incident, as Ichabod’s splendid 
pitching held them scoreless. Out in right field, T. 
Haviland Hicks, Jr., by the simple process of doing 
nothing, attracted all the attention, and Shakes- 
peai^e Sawtelle, envious of Doc MacGruder’s laurels,, 
shouted a humorous parody : 

— Twinkle, twinkle, baseball star — 

How we wonder who you are ! 

Out in right field, on the job — 

My, but Hicks looks like Ty Cobb!’’ 

It must not be supposed that the blithesome 
Hicks was in the least perturbed by this continuous 
storm of jeers, ridicule, and sarcasm that inundated 
him, or that the hilarious collegians meant anything 
by it. T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., was the most popular 
youth at Bannister, and well beloved by all, while 
he was a loyal friend to everybody. By his harm- 
less braggadocio, and his excruciatingly funny swag- 
ger, entirely assumed, he brought his punishment on 
himself, and it is hard to say who enjoyed the chaf- 
fing more, the students, or — Hicks. 

To the game again — even in the Big Leagues, the. 


22 


325 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


•unexpected frequently happens, and a contest ap- 
parently added to the “Won” column of a team may, 
in the ninth inning, suddenly be shifted to the 
“Lost.” And — anything could happen in the Sopho- 
more-Freshman annual game at Bannister, once the 
pitcher of either nine lost his control, or cunning. 

When 1919 came to bat in the last of the ninth, 
■with the score ten to four against the Sophomores, 
and Hicks having made the last out the previous in- 
ning, no one dreamed that the festive youth would 
again have a chance to imitate either “Home Run” 
Baker or the immortal “Casey.” Roddy had been 
pitching steady ball, giving his team-mates no op- 
portunity to kick the game away, and not a cloud 
appeared on the horizon of 1920’s blue sky. 

Taking careful aim, James Roderick Perkins hit 
Beef McNaughton fairly in the back with the ball, 
though that behemoth did not become exhausted 
from his efforts to get out of the way. Following 
this, to show his marvelous accuracy, Roddy smote 
Ichabod in the ribs, a difficult feat, as the lengthy 
youth presented a very thin side-view. Thanks to 
an error by Biff Pemberton, the agitated 1920 catch- 
er, second and third base soon became occupied by 
the two Sophomores. 

Then — ^with the spectators taking a mild interest, 
the Freshman pitcher reformed temporarily, and 
struck out Skeet Wigglesworth on three pitched 

326 


HICKS CLEANS UP 


balls. Following this, Captain Butch Brewster, by 
way of gentle reproof, “leaned against” one of Rod- 
dy’s fast ones for what is known in baseball par- 
lance as a two-bagger, scoring two runs This feat 
raised the hopes of 1919, the enthusiastic interest of 
the upper-classmen, and the score to ten to six, all 
at one fell blow. 

“Go get ’em!” was the cry. “A garrison finish! 
You can do it, ’19 — ^ — !” 

Utterly carried away with excitement. Cherub 
Challoner, a rotund youth, swung frantically at two 
balls so far over his head that a vaulting-pole would 
have been more appropriate than a bat. Then he 
steadied down, and aroused futile hopes by getting 
three balls, after which he showed his gratitude to 
Roddy Perkins by gracefully striking out. As this 
made two out. Butch on second, and Billy Harns- 
worth, a woefully weak hitter, at bat, the crowd 
made unmistakable evidences of departure. 

However, since Billy could not hit the ball, the 
nervous Roddy courteously hit the Sophomore, this 
time carefully picking out the left shoulder; where- 
upon the second-year batter promenaded to first, be- 
ing greeted heartily by Butch Brewster, who had 
grown lonesome on second. After this event, the 
spectators decided to wait a few minutes longer, be- 
cause — there were signs in the atmosphere that — 
“things might happen !” 


327 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


With two on bases, and two out, Pudge Langdon 
selected a choice spot back of shortstop, and dropped 
a beautiful “Texas Leaguer” thereon, which act won 
him generous applause from the spectators, and 
caused a near-riot among the 1919 rooters, as the 
bases were full. Following this illustrious example. 
Chub Chalmers, who had never before hit a ball, 
drove a short single to right field, scoring Butch, 
and keeping the bases crowded. With the score 10 
to 7, in favor of 1920, and the noise and chaos 
approaching the thunderous din of a combined earth- 
quake, artillery-battle, and cyclone, the tumult sud- 
denly died, for — in the ninth, 1919 had batted 
around, and 

The next hitter was — Thomas Haviland Hicks, 

Jr.! 

“It’s all over!” groaned Captain Butch Brewster, 
taking a long lead off second base. “Three runs to 
tie, and four to win — two men out — the bases full — 
and Hicks at bat ! Good night!” 

To do the happy-go-lucky Hicks justice, he ap- 
peared to realize the solemnity of the occasion. It 
was all right to be jocular when the score was ten 
to five, two out, and a runner on second, but now — 
with the bases congested, and three runs needed to 
tie, and himself about to make the third out, the 
final one of the game — it was time for serious re- 
flection. 


328 


HICKS CLEANS UP 


“Casey at the Bat!” howled the upper-classmen, 
and the hilarious Freshmen, the tension relieved 
now, took up the cry. In truth, everyone believed 
the game was ended, for it would require but a few 
seconds to strike out the nerve-shaken Hicks. How- 
ever, he might get a base on balls, which would bring 
that heavy hitter. Beef McNaughton up, with the 
score then lo to 8, for a run would be forced in by 
a pass. 

“Strike out Hicks!” shouted the Freshmen. 
“Hicks — the Hitless Wonder! All right, Roddy — 
three pitched balls will do it all right — ^they’ll end 
the game!” 

Three pitched balls did — ^but in an unexpected 
way. In Hicks’ nervous, intensely excited frame of 
mind, Roddy could have heaved the sphere at the 
second-baseman, and the Sophomore would have 
struck blindly at it. Determined not to get out on 
called strikes, the desperate Hicks resolved to swing 
wildly, in the shadowy hope of hitting the ball. With 
this in mind, and not hearing his team-mates’ im- 
ploring shouts to “Wait him out!” the second edi- 
tion of “Casey” struck madly at two balls that 
aviated far above his noble brow. 

“Str-r-rike two !” pronounced Umpire Soc Oster- 
haus, excitedly. 

“It’s all over but the shouting!” howled the happy 
Freshmen, and the upper-classmen, following a Ban- 


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T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


nister tradition, left the stand, and crowded together, 
to give their class yell for the victorious nine. 

James Roderick Perkins, intensely nervous under 
the strain, could not have pitched the ball over the 
plate for a Carnegie medal; however, since Hicks, 
equally perturbed in mind and body, would offer at 
anything delivered, the Freshman slowly made his 
wind-up for the third strike. With elaborate care, 
he poised a second, made a windmill of his arms, to 
the terror of Hicks, and — ^threw the ball far above 
Biff Pemberton’s head. 

With a marvelous leap, the Freshman catcher suc- 
ceeded in touching the ball with his big glove, con- 
verting a wild pitch into a catcher’s error ; the sphe- 
roid, deflected, rolled thirty feet to one side, and 
Billy Harnsworth, followed by Pudge Langdon, 
dashed across the plate. In the meantime the watch- 
ful Skeet Wiggles worth, who knew baseball, even 
though he could not play it, grasped a startling sit- 
uation : 

“Run, Hicks — run!” he shrieked madly, knowing 
why Butch and Billy had sprinted. “You struck at 
that ball — it’s your third strike, and the catcher 
missed it! Run — run — run!” 

It was true ! The excited Hicks had taken an un- 
mistakably healthy swing at the ball, several feet 
over his head — however, in a daze, he had stood for 
a second or two at the plate ; now, aroused by Sheet’s 


330 


HICKS CLEANS UP 



shrieks, he plunged wildly toward first base. Bifif 
Pemberton, having retrieved the ball, did some quick 
thinking — two runs had scored, but the Sophomores 
still needed one to tie, and two were out — if he 
caught the tardy Hicks at first, the Freshmen would 
win the game. 


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T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 


With this in mind, and actuated by good motives, 
Biff hurled the ball out into right field, to the sur- 
prise of the fielder, who stared at it in bewilderment. 
While this took place Chub Chalmers, a fair sprinter, 
turned third base and dashed at top speed for home- 
plate with the tying run, amid deafening cheers, 
When the right-fielder finally picked up the ball, the 
speedy Sophomore was nearing the plate, and a 
throw even from Ty Cobb would have been futile — 
therefore, he made a bonehead play, and hurled it 
toward an angry Biff Pemberton, catcher. 

“Hicks! Hicks! Hicks!” — everyone, it seemed, 
except the dazed Freshmen, shouted at the debonair 
youth, who was industriously striving to sprint 
around the bases, studiously touching each one. “Go 
it, Hicks — home run, old man !” 

As the hard-working Hicks neared third base, the 
frantic Freshman catcher, in striving to pick up the 
ball as it rolled to him, dropped it again. Finally 
clutching it, he threw it to the third baseman — it was 
a beautiful throw, but too forcible, and it was 
promptly muffed. The ball progressed toward the 
left field fence, at a slow pace, and Butch Brewster, 
who had run down to coach, took a desperate chance, 
and yelled : 

“Home — Hicks! Run and slide — go home!’* 

The frenzied third baseman, in starting after the 
ball, caught his toe in the bag, and did a beautiful 


332 


HICKS CLEANS UP 


Annette Kellermann dive on terra Arma. By the 
time he recovered his equilibrium and the ball, 
Hicks, even with his speed materially reduced be- 
cause of fatigue, was about to be received with tre- 
mendous cheers and open arms at the home plate. 
Determined to interrupt and foil this “Home-com- 
ing” delegation of 1919 enthusiasts, he went Biff 
Pemberton’s wild throw to first base one better, 
and 

The spheroid sailed high over the catcher’s head, 
striking in the wire backstop, which extended to the 
right of the home plate. Amid an uproar that no 
event in history can duplicate, T. Haviland Hicks, 
Jr., having actually scored a home run, and added 
four scores to the 1919 column, thus winning the 
great Sophomore-Freshman game — on a strike 
out — literally staggered across the plate, and col- 
lapsed. 

Several minutes later, when the shouting and the 
tumult died, and the hilariously happy rooters of 
old 1919 bore the triumphant players Gymnasium- 
ward, while the thrilled spectators still vociferated 
their unparalleled joy, T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., borne 
on Bus Norton’s broad shoulders, looked across sev- 
eral heads at Captain Butch Brewster, being trans- 
ported in similar fashion. 

With that inevitable Cheshire cat grin on his 
classic countenance, the sunny Sophomore spoke 


333 , 


T. HAVILAND HICKS, SOPHOMORE 

“Just leave it to me, Butch,” he chortled joyously, 
“I said I would win the game for. old ’19. And, 
behold, I have kept my word, for ” 

“Yes,” jeered Butch Brewster, though he could 
not conceal his happiness sufficiently to crush the 
exuberant Hicks with the proper scorn, “a home 
run — on a strike out. Bah — you said last spring 
that you would win your B in three branches of 
sport before you graduate. Two years have gone, 
and ” 

The happy-go-lucky Hicks, even in his unbounded 
joy, became serious for a second. It was true — ^two 
years had passed, and his Dad’s ambition was as far 
as ever from fulfillment, and — despite the glory he 
had won in this game, he realized it was pure luck, 
and he could never make a Bannister nine. Then, 
the sunny, care-free nature of the lovable Hicks 
reigned supreme, and above the plaudits of the 
crowd yelling “Hicks — Hicks — Hicks!” he re- 
sponded to Butch Brewster : 

“You are right, old man,” he grinned sunnily. 
“Two years have gone, and I have not won my B. 
But — I’ll keep my word, and win it in three sports 
before I graduate from Old Bannister, because — I 
have two years left yet!” 


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